Never Quite Lost
by ThisVioletofMine
Summary: AU. The battle had been short, the victory simple. And with Merlin's magic on their side, well, what was out there that they couldn't do? Destiny was fulfilled, Albion was born, and everyone was happy. Everything had been going their way. 'So why,' Arthur thought, 'did it all have to go so horribly wrong' Features baby!Merlin and caring!everybody. Not what you think.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**A/N: This is my first Merlin fiction, so please be gentle in reviews and such! I've been meaning to write this for a while, but didn't know if I could pull it off; it taking place in a different time period. But, I finally gathered up my courage, opened my laptop, and here we are. **

**This is officially an AU, taking place after Camlann, but without anybody dying. Lancelot is here, too! I just can't stand the way the series ended, so here's my way to console myself.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin**

**Never Quite Lost**

The battle had been short, the victory simple. The bandits had all either surrendered or died, and all that had been left was the cleaning-up of the messy aftermath. Swords had long since been sheathed, battered shields had been lowered, and shoulders had been punched good-naturedly in celebration of their pure magnificence. They had set up camp a few miles away, through the forest, and they had been sitting around the warm fire, laughing and cleansing their minds of the gore that still had yet to be removed, not a short walking-distance away. The knights beamed and radiated brotherly loyalty, each coming up with some way or another to cheer the others up.

Sir Gwaine told riveting tales that _surely, _positively _could not _have happened, ranging from smaller things like wrestling a bear, to not-so-small things like riding a herd of unicorns into battle against several powerful sorcerers, coming out gloriously victorious. The others scoffed at the mere notion, and Sir Elyan laughingly pointed out that no, it wasn't true because only _virgins _could even _see_ unicorns. This gained several more chuckles, and a mock-offended look from Gwaine.

Sir Leon and Sir Lancelot both told honorably humble stories about various rescues and other duties they had performed, like calming terrified children during the aftermath of the Battle of Camlann. This particular tale didn't do much to lighten any hearts, as much as it made them all go solemnly silent. They had lost many good knights in that fight, and lost many allies to the enemy's side well.

Then, when they had thought the good moment was forever lost, Merlin perked up, recalling tales of his childhood and the magical pranks he had played. Soon the mood had returned, and everyone went to bed in good spirits.

The next day promised to be perfect, no rain and no sweltering heat. They made plans to return to Camelot's borders that evening, after clean up was completed and the nearby villages were patrolled. Ealdor being one of these, the newly-appointed Court Sorcerer excitedly invited his friends to visit his mother's hut with him. They could practically _feel _the waves of ecstatic impatience rolling off of the warlock as he spoke of it, and knew he was anticipating his chance to tell his mother that he had finally been accepted as a practitioner of magic.

'So why did it all have to go so wrong?' Arthur silently begged of the Lord. 'Why did this have to happen?'

"Support his head!"

"Wrap it tighter!"

"He's losing too much blood!"

"Stay with us, Merlin!"

The king was blissfully numb as he sat near the edge of the small clearing, watching his brothers-in-arms as they worked frantically to save the youngest of the group.

'Why did that blasted bandit have to live? Why did he have to live, when he would come back for revenge? Why did he have to live to stab Merlin?' He asked in his mind. Well, there's no use in obsessing over it now. He was dead _now_, even though Arthur severely wished he were still living so that he could torture the life right out of him.

While the old raggedy thief had been punished with a fate identical to Merlin's- a sword jammed up from his stomach into his ribcage and lungs- it was hardly justice for what he had done.

And now here was Arthur Pendragon, mighty King of Camelot, uniting force of the great Albion, sobbing like an infant over the lifeless body of his best friend, his brother.

"Sire, you must stay focused!" Percival snapped, effectively bringing Arthur back to task.

"Arthur, keep his torso elevated!" Lancelot ordered. Arthur was all-too happy to let someone else make the decisions for once, and obediently knelt by the former servant's head, gently pulling Merlin's head and shoulders onto his lap. He tapped the boy on the cheek, insisting he wake up.

"Come on, Merlin. You must open your eyes." He pleaded, not caring the slightest if anyone thought any less of him for it. His begging met no response.

The young man in front of him was so unlike the usual Merlin, he had to keep from wondering if maybe they had the wrong warlock.

His skin was pale and sweaty, but cold to the touch and almost bloodless. His face looked more gaunt than usual, shadows filling the craters he called cheeks and purple rings forming under his eyes. He was lying completely bonelessly, not reacting even when Elyan poured water into his wound to clean it. The fact that his magic didn't appear to be healing him was worrisome as well. Every once and a while there'd be a golden shimmering beneath his closed lids, and then matching golden shimmering around the edges of his wound, and they'd all sit with bated breaths and watch hopefully; but then the light would die down again and there would be no change in the status of his injury.

Maybe there was only so much his magic could do?

But, no, he was the mighty Emrys, prophesied by the druids for thousands of years before his birth. He was supposed to be magic _itself,_ with an unending supply and limitless power. He was supposed to stay by Arthur's side forever, it was said to be his destiny for years! Why was his all-powerful magic failing him _now_, of all times? Not once had it failed Arthur, otherwise he would have been long dead. No, Merlin's magic and Merlin himself had always come through for him, and he hated to even ponder on the fact that his best friend's very _being _was betraying him. Did the fates _really _choose to be so unkind to the most selfless, kind, worthy person among them? After all he had done for each and every one of them- things they knew of and things they did not- and they could hardly do anything for him in return; in his hour of need, no less.

They all felt positively rotten.

The wound had been wrapped up tightly in the cleanest of their capes- Gwaine's- and still blood leaked through, staining the Pendragon red a dark maroon. Gwaine doubted he would ever want anything to do with the thing ever again after this was all over.

And that's what scared them the most- this whole experience would eventually end. The possibility- no, _probability_\- that this ended with Merlin's death was terrifying. They couldn't be positively sure they could keep him alive until his wound was entirely healed, and the fact that they had to leave this moment where he was injured but _alive _and temporarily stable did not bode well for their lanky friend.

They all sat in solemn silence now, watching and waiting for something, anything, to happen.

While deep down inside they didn't expect him to wake up, they all hoped desperately for another glimpse of those cerulean eyes. Even golden irises would be a sight for sore eyes.

What Lancelot knew, that the rest didn't, was that there was no possible way at all for Merlin to recover. He had taken a few opportunities in the past to study a few medicinal practices with Gaius and knew that while they could _maybe _slow the bleeding, there was no non-magical way to repair the surely shredded tissue of his lungs, the sliced arteries, and his other punctured organs. And it seemed even magic was having difficulty doing those things. It was truly a miracle that he had lived this long.

Of course, that seemed to be the only thing his magic was doing- keeping him barely alive. Not healing his insides, no, just keeping his heart pumping, lungs wheezing, and brain living. They weren't even sure if that counted as alive. He must have been in so much pain, yet his face remained impassive.

There was a wet gurgling noise that now accompanied his ragged breaths, and every once and awhile a single drop of blood would drip from the corner of his mouth. That in itself they knew was a bad sign.

They stayed vigil by his side for what felt like many hours, but must have been only two or three. The warlock's head remained in Arthur's lap, and the king absentmindedly would run his fingers affectionately through the curly hair, black as a raven's wing. Whenever the blood would escape his lips, the king would delicately wipe it away with his cloak and gently turn him over and pat his back in an even gentler fashion, helping dislodge any remaining blood from his throat.

It was after another hour of this pattern that the coughing began.

They started as small, throat-clearing sorts of coughs, but soon became big, choking barks as the man's body struggled to expel the increasing amount of blood from his lungs. As a result, they had to slowly sit him up, with Percival holding him upright while Arthur pat his back more. They had to be extremely careful not to jostle the massive internal injuries throughout his entire front and stomach. He started shivering.

It was after another few minutes that they realized that he was getting increasingly worse, and there was little else they could do other than make him comfortable and keep him functioning a little while longer. Even Arthur was beginning to lose his stubborn hope that all would be well.

His shivers became full-on shakes, his lips and fingernails turned blue, and when Lancelot peeled back his eyelid, his eyes were discovered to be glassy and unfocused, his pupils unresponsive to light.

By late afternoon, not even the warmth of pure sunlight could quell his obvious chills.

They so desperately wanted to move him back to their encampment where there were more supplies, but besides the occasional movements of sitting up and down and being shifted into sunnier patches as the sun flew across the sky, it was unsafe to move him further.

By the fourth hour, the coughing turned to vomiting.

Blood was everywhere now, on the ground, on Merlin's clothes, on Leon's and Lancelot's chainmail. They had managed to get a few sips of water down his throat, but when they finally got it past his clenched teeth- the first sign that he was feeling pain- due to Percival holding his jaw open, they realized worriedly that he wasn't swallowing. When it became evident that he wasn't just taking his time, and that he needed to breathe soon, Gwaine hurriedly rubbed his throat up and down, trying to stimulate the muscles into the movements that were supposed to be automatic. Eventually the gratifying sound of water going down the esophagus was heard, along with the feeling of his Adam's apple going up and down once. The movement seemed to somehow exhaust those particular muscles, but at least he now had some water in him.

Until he threw it back up ten minutes later, the clear liquid now tinged pink with blood.

They only left his side to answer nature's call, and even then, they prolonged it as much as possible to avoid leaving him. They didn't eat anything all day, and the same went with water. They stayed there, in a grassy clearing in the middle of the forest, somewhere in Cenred's land, not leaving the confines of said clearing for hours on end, all completely focused on keeping Merlin comfortable and warm.

And to think, a mere five years ago, he had been 'just a servant', new to Camelot and a total idiot and waste of space in Arthur's eyes.

And now, here that same 'waste of space' was, and here Arthur was, screaming inside and begging him for hours to please, just wake up and be okay. That single boy had changed Arthur for the better, in ways it seemed impossible to even believe, he had wormed his awkward way into each of their hearts, had saved Arthur's life and the life of his kingdom multiple times, had comforted him, been a friend to him, and had saved him from Mordred's and Agravaine's treachery.

He and his queen were still grieving from their second stillbirth, and now they might well be burying another loved one, all within the space of a year. He _needed_ Merlin's support still, because sometimes the grief and stress would just be too much for even Guenivere to help with, as she was still grieving, herself; but Merlin could always get through to him and reassure him. He needed him.

By the fifth hour, his breathing was shallow and his pulse was weak, and blood was being coughed up at a much more rapid rate. They were really surprised he had made it this long, and that he had so lost so much blood for such a light person.

After tenderly wiping bloody spittle from the young man's chin for the eleventh time that hour, Gwaine finally spoke up after so long in silence.

"Mates, I don't like this. I don't like watching him suffer so. There's nothing left for us to do, a-and all his magic's doing is keeping him alive when-" he stopped short, choking a little, before finishing quietly, "-when he needs to let go."

Arthur winced, growling slightly in the back of his throat. The other knights glared at the drunkard.

"Please, the lad's suffering horribly! H-he doesn't deserve this! I know w-we don't want to let him go, bu-but it's his time, brothers. I think we'd be doing him a kindness if- if we put 'im out of his misery." He stated, a tear sliding down his cheek.

And then they realized that it was just as painful for him to suggest it as it was for them to consider it. He loved Merlin like a little brother, and had known him for longer than some of them; they could only imagine how he was really feeling under his mask of calm sadness.

But no, they couldn't just let Merlin go out of nowhere.

"Gwaine's right. This is unnecessary cruelty. There's no chance of recovery, not this time." Said Lancelot, and they all turned teary gazes to Arthur. It was his call, as always. He swallowed and tried to dislodge the lump in his throat.

"No, we can't-" He started, but caught himself. He sighed, looked down to the still face in his arms. Took in the blood escaping his friend's lips yet again. The pained way his eyebrows knit together and released.

And then several shocked gasps drew his attention from the boy's face, to his knights, all of which were staring at Merlin's torso. He slowly lowered his gaze to Merlin's chest, fearing the worst.

Golden tendrils of flowing light emerged from the warlock's chest- from his heart- reaching higher and higher into the evening breeze, towards the skies. It shimmered like gold, but was almost transparent simultaneously. It performed intricate dances never before witnessed, writhed like a living being and weaved like a wave on the rowdiest ocean. It was awe-inspiringly beautiful. It was magic. Pure magic.

And then there was a gasping from Arthur's legs, where Merlin was moving frantically, biting his lip while trying not to scream out.

"Merlin!" They shouted, thrilled that he was waking. He barely heard them though, only the concerned cries of his Once and Future King.

"Mmh…" He moaned, opening his eyes, which were bright gold, brighter than they had ever been before. They almost hurt to look at.

"NO!" Merlin suddenly screamed, and the golden magic grew taller even faster, the swirling and dancing becoming swift, blurry movements. His eyes glowed pure golden, and his breathing increased in his panic.

"NO! Don't leave me!" He screamed again, his throat rubbing raw.

"Whoa, Merlin, what's wrong?" Arthur asked. Merlin turned his glowing eyes to the king, who gasped as the color was slowly draining from the outer rings of his eyes and working inward, changing to blue as it went.

"M-my magic." The warlock answered, tears sliding down his face. Arthur realized what he meant. His magic was leaving him, like rats on a sinking ship. He became furious with the universe.

"Merlin, I'm here. We're all here, all of us." He soothed, running a hand over the younger man's forehead.

"Yes, Merlin, we're all here. We'll never leave you." Gwaine said with a smile, though his eyes spoke of pure agony. If his magic left, that meant he was leaving much sooner than they had thought. They weren't ready.

Merlin stayed silent for a moment, lifting his head as high as it would go in his weakened state, to look to each of his closest friends, excluding Gaius and Gwen. Finally, a weak- but genuine- smile reached his lips, and he lay his head back down as another wave of pain hit. He concealed it, though.

"Thank you." Was all he got out. But no more needed to be said. He knew he was going to die, and they knew he knew, and so there was nothing left to say. The simple thank you encompassed so much in their lives, and it meant the world to each of them. Elyan, the one with the littlest relationship with the Court Sorcerer, was surprisingly the one to speak.

"No, Merlin, thank _you_." And Merlin smiled wider- just barely. He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment.

He opened them again and looked at the group, then up to Arthur.

"Please don't leave me." He whispered. They all smiled kindly, tears gliding down their faces, and each placed a hand on his arms and legs, Arthur on his shoulder.

"We're here." By now his irises were fully blue again, the last ring fading away to nothing as the golden stream ended and flowed up into the sky, to the heavens. He had his own tears as well, but they soon turned to blood droplets running from his eyes. He watched his beloved magic, his very _being_, leave with such a resigned look, yet so full of longing. Arthur wanted so badly to grab his former manservant and never let him go.

But then, Merlin looked to up at him, and he was so full of peace, Arthur couldn't help smiling. Merlin was at peace, and by God he was going to stay that way.

And so, as Merlin's breaths became too shallow to detect and his heart slowly failed, he lay with his eyes softly closed, his head resting in his best friend's lap, without a care in the world. His friends were there, they would always be there for him, and he would be okay. Everything would be okay.

His breathing eventually stopped, and in those precious last seconds, he took one last glance at his closest friends. The sight of them all settled his final doubts, and from where he lay, he could see all of their faces. Perfect, he thought to himself earnestly. I'm so glad to have been in their lives.

He looked up into Arthur's face, his eyes saying all he needed to. _It's been a privilege to know you, to grow with you. I'll miss you, brother. _Arthur seemed to understand, and he nodded.

His final task done, Merlin relaxed himself and prepared to forever leave his broken, bloody body, and the only friends he had ever had. But he was never afraid.

His heart beat one last time, and the last image he saw was his friends, smiling fondly down at him, before his eyes slowly… drifted… shut.

And so, the most loving, caring heart in all of Albion finally beat its last.

The anguished roars of the Great Dragon could be heard from miles away as their age-old kinship was finally severed.


	2. Chapter 2: Ashes

**Surprise, this isn't a death one-shot!**

**Never Quite Lost**

Arthur didn't try to suppress his sobs as his best friend slowly relaxed, then went still, dead in his arms. Carefully, he made his way from underneath the boy's body and went to his side, throwing himself on the warlock's chest and sobbing harder.

"Merlin!" He screamed, and soon his cries of anguish were joined by those of his knights, and the howling of wolves nearby.

They sobbed together for two hours straight, huddled around the mangled, pale body of the wisest, kindest person they'd ever know. Arthur didn't remember crying himself to sleep, but when he awoke, he was by the campfire, covered in his own cloak. It was getting lighter out, the morning slowly breaking the night's dark hold of the land. The others were nowhere in sight, but the supplies were still there.

Arthur stood, only to get a better view of his surroundings- and find the familiar, covered form of his friend's body. He gagged, and vomited on the nearby ground. The warlock's body was lying right by the tree line, and covered by Sir Gwaine's cape, still stained dark with Merlin's blood.

As a fresh wave of grief overcame him, King Arthur could only run, run until his legs were sore and his heart was pumping. The trees dashed by at a rapid pace, and he could barely focus on the ground in front of him. He came upon a larger clearing, and there he just so happened to stumble upon his loyal knights, building a pyre of sorts. He didn't need to ask what it was for; he just felt sick.

"Sire, we didn't mean to leave you." Leon said, approaching him cautiously. "But, um, we were about to… head back for Merlin… so, if you want to, I don't know, keep your distance, we'll understand." Arthur barely shook his head, half in a daze. Surely this wasn't real! Surely it's just a dream and I'll wake up to Merlin calling me 'lazy daisy'! Oh what he wouldn't give to hear those words again!

Losing Merlin was one thing, but burning him was a whole other.

So he stood there, hands behind his back, watching with teary eyes from a few feet away as the others carried the red-covered corpse from the trees and laid it on the wooden structure they had been up all night building.

The material was pulled back to reveal the ghastly white face, the stained red teartracks, the stiff limbs, and the gaping wound on his abdomen. It no longer bled, though the king didn't know why he would think it would in the first place.

Merlin's pack had been inspected, and they had gone through it thoroughly, taking the time to choose what should be returned to Hunith and what should be burned along with their owner.

They placed one of Merlin's few personal possessions, a miniscule glass jar on a chain, on his chest, and then placed a bouquet of various wildflowers (tied together by one of his spare neckerchiefs) by his side. Inside the small jar was a mysterious collection of tiny, folded-up pieces of parchment. Lots of them. Lancelot, curious and desperate for some distraction, had uncorked the little bottle and poured out its contents, patiently unfolding and reading each paper. They all had various names written on them, all in different forms of handwriting. Signatures.

The first- and by far the oldest- one was yellowed with age, and was the most memorable of them. A child's handwriting had scrawled, rather sloppily, _Mothhur._ Then, under that, in an adult's swooping handwriting, _Mama._ And then, the one most recently added to the slip of paper, _Hunith _was signed in the same swooping handwriting as the previous name.

Another one was signed _William, _in a different child's writing; and yet another read _Miss Maria_. Lancelot vaguely wondered who the last name belonged to.

He later found his own name among the horde of names, distantly remembering Merlin's cheeky grin as he asked the knight to sign his name on a slip of paper. He had done so, but with a raised brow the entire time.

After reading dozens more names, he finally realized what this necklace was. It symbolized every loved one, every friend, every family member Merlin had ever had; and by the looks of the cork keeping the slips in the jar, he had opened it quite often to read through the ones he already had and to add more.

Poor Merlin, so many of those names Lancelot had remembered belonging to the dead. For one so young, Merlin had surely seen more hardships in life than many others. And somehow kept a smile on his face the entire way.

As he approached the pyre that held what was left of his friend with torch in hand, his mind went back to that tiny jar, containing so much of young Merlin's life. It was sad enough a thought to bring tears to his eyes, but they didn't fall. He passed the flame to the king, who numbly set the wood ablaze.

They watched sadly as the flames licked at the red cloth surrounding the prone form, finally catching. And, much too fast to the knights and king, Merlin was eventually reduced to a pile of ashes.

Lancelot thought it was his imagination, but he could have sworn he had seen the purest golden light slowly ascending from Merlin's grave, up into the sky and over the trees.

He paid it no mind.

After all, he had a good friend's ashes to scatter.


	3. Chapter 3: Hunith

**Alrighty, chapter 3!**

**Never Quite Lost**

The ride to Ealdor was very long, and very quiet. Even though they could have made it that day if they'd hurried, they rode slowly and tensely, not in any hurry to inform Hunith- such a sweet, wonderful woman- of her only child's death. They camped out in a small clearing for the night, and then set off again before dawn, their hearts heavy and their feet always dragging. Well, dragging when they weren't riding horses. Merlin's horse was tied to Gwaine's, following confusedly behind and it seemed to be asking, 'where's my rider?'

Merlin had always had a way with animals, especially Danimh, the problem mare of Camelot's stables. She bit and kicked anyone who came near her, yet with Merlin she was gentle, snuggly, even. Seeing her so heartbroken to be missing her friend was hard on the others, who were missing him even more so.

Gwaine rode silently, brooding. Out of all of them, Gwaine had changed the most, not speaking to anyone. He would start crying unprovoked, and would snarl at anyone who tried to talk to him about anything.

Arthur had stopped crying hours ago, now so grieved even tears couldn't express his sadness. He rode almost as silently as his knight.

'Stupid, stupid!' Arthur cursed himself for the umpteenth time that day. 'If I had just been there when Merlin needed me, he would still… still…' he couldn't finish the painful thought.

"_Help!_ Somebody _help me!_" Came a frantic scream from the trees ahead. Camelot's patrol snapped their heads up, worried expressions on their faces. They were five miles from their destination, and as they approached the source of the scream, it became obvious that this person was from Ealdor.

It was a woman, that much Arthur could tell, with a tan wrap around her hair and two locks of raven hair falling around her face, which was currently parallel with the ground, concealing her identity. Her clothes were that of a peasant, not raggedy but worn from work, and her feet had simple boots on them. She was on the ground, crouched around her middle, clutching her swollen abdomen. It was obvious from the size of her belly and her screams of pain that she was close to- if not already in- labor.

"We're here, ma'am. Calm down." Arthur said urgently, jumping down from his horse and kneeling by her. There was a small pack on her back and she was clearly travelling a distance.

"A-Arthur?" The woman gasped through clenched teeth. The king scrunched his brows together, wondering who this woman was and why she referred to him by his first name.

"Oh, it is you! Thank God above!" She cried in pure relief, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He froze and stumbled backwards for a moment before regaining his balance. Then, he hesitantly put his hands on her back to return the hug.

"Do I know you?" He asked, motioning for the knights to come closer. The woman finally pulled away, revealing a dirty face covered in tear tracks and the bluest eyes. Eyes he had only seen on two people in his whole life.

"Hunith!" He exclaimed happily, smiling down at her and hugging her again, all troubles forgotten for a moment. She smiled too, but then doubled over in pain, reminding them of her predicament.

Wait, Hunith was in _labor_?

Well, by the looks of things, they didn't have much time, so they had work to do right now.

"Percival, go get a cart from the village. A big one that Lady Hunith may rest in." He ordered, and the giant man nodded and rode off to the town. Meanwhile Arthur eased the pained woman to the ground, keeping comforting hands on her shoulders. She looked terrified, a new look for her. A slight smile lit up her face at being called 'Lady', but every other part of her face spoke of fear and pain.

"I didn't know you were pregnant, Hunith." Arthur commented with a smile, trying to cheer her up with his joke. It was kind of hard to miss the large stomach, and he had only seen her last month. To his surprise, she met his eyes solemnly, and said, "I wasn't pregnant yesterday."

"_What?_" Elyan cried. Hunith nodded while wincing.

"But…b-but how?" Arthur stuttered. Hunith looked frightened again.

"I don't know… I've been with no man, and I just woke up this mor- ARGH!- t-this morning, eight months along. A-and the town midwife is in Tarrensworth for a month, so I was g-going to see Gaius, but a few miles into my trip, my stomach started hurting, and I haven't felt something this painful since-" She cut off, a tear running down her flushed cheek. Arthur wanted to ask, but figured she meant Merlin's birth.

_Merlin._

How was he supposed to tell Hunith? She was already in pain, and he didn't want to risk hurting her further or depressing her. No, he'd tell her later.

"I-I was s-so afraid, I-I still am…" She panted, her hair sticking to the sweat on her face. "I-it couldn't b-be why I think it is, right?" She whimpered and Arthur had to support her lethargic weight.

"Arthur! I got the cart and some blankets!" Percival shouted as he came galloping down the dirt road, a large cart filled with hay hooked up behind him. Since Percival's horse was the strongest, he'd have to pull her to Camelot, to Gaius. The gentle giant reached down and lifted the tiny woman into his arms, placing her delicate frame into the hay-filled box, then surrounding her with blankets and placing a plank of wood to block the open side.

They rode off as fast as they could, trying not to wince each time they went over a bump, which in turn made Hunith groan. They couldn't imagine the pain she was going through, though Arthur imagined it could be compared to being stabbed. A few times. At least, if the pained yells were anything to go by.

Another bump.

Another groan.

Another wince.

Yep, he may have understated.

After half a day of riding furiously, they finally could see the mighty towers of Arthur's beloved kingdom.

"It's alright Lady Hunith, we're almost there…" Leon shouted over the screams and hoof beats.

Looking back, Arthur saw her nod from her nest of blankets, whining and clutching her stomach.

The guards at the main gates saw Arthur's frantic and determined gaze and knew- from lots of past experience- to let him pass without stopping. He led Percival hurriedly to the courtyard, while the others left their horses at the stables.

Percival gently carried Merlin's mother into the castle, placing a reassuring kiss on her sweaty forehead, making her smile a little. There was something about Hunith, something that made every man respect and want to protect her. Sort of like Merlin.

No, don't you _dare_ start thinking about that.

Arthur and his largest knight burst through the flimsy wooden door to Gaius' chambers, shouting the old man's name until he finally emerged from the storage room in the corner, herbs in hand and a raised brow. At the sight of his surrogate sister, he immediately went into physician mode and ushered them to the cot in the middle of the room, where Hunith was placed. Percival was sent away to inform the queen of their return. Hunith whimpered a bit, but remained where she was put. Arthur hated seeing such a strong woman so weak- so vulnerable.

Gaius set to asking her questions; each of her answers surprised him more and more.

"How long have you known?"

"Ten hours."

"Are you having back pains?"

"No. All in my stomach."

"How long has the pain been going on?"

"Since this morning."

"Have you been drinking any water?"

"Some."

"So, you're eight months pregnant overnight?"

"Apparantly."

"Are you aware that you're bleeding?"

"What? NO!" She shouted, maternal side showing. She hadn't known this child for more than a day and already she was in love. Arthur was confused as to why she was so upset about bleeding. Didn't that mean the baby was coming? The sorrow and the haunted look her eyes gained told another tale.

"What's the matter? Gaius, what's wrong?" He demanded of the elderly physician. "What does that mean?"

Gaius gave him a worried look and gave Hunith a towel to staunch the blood flow while he pulled the young king aside.

"Sire, excessive bleeding like that and stomach pains mean that she may have miscarried." Arthur's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth in an 'o'.

Without another word, Gaius shepherded him out the door, closing it behind him and setting to work stopping the bleeding.

Arthur stayed in the hall, however, on the bench by the far wall. Hunith was the only thing left of Merlin now, and he loved the woman anyways. She was like the mother he never had. He had to make sure she and the miracle baby were okay.

His head spun with thoughts, worried thoughts that made him nauseous.

What if the baby was fine? What if Hunith delivered it, but it killed her in the process? She may look young, but she certainly wasn't the right age for child-bearing anymore. What if it was born with a birth disorder? What if it was still-born? He couldn't stand the thought of Merlin's mother going through what he and Gwen had.

Speaking of which, here was the queen now.

Dressed in a regal crimson gown, Guenivere looked so beautiful, his angel. She sat next to him, placing a kiss on his lips before quietly asking what was going on. He explained everything, before coming to the hardest part.

"Gwen… Merlin's… he's…" He started, a single tear slipping down his pale cheek. Gwen gasped, placing both hands over her mouth and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Gaius, I don't want to go through this like I did last time!" They heard Hunith cry, then heard Gaius' robes swishing as he went to the distraught woman's side.

"Now, Hunith, you didn't lose him, remember?" There was a wet chuckle, and a few sniffles.

"Yes, well, it's rather hard to forget that." She chuckled again, taking a calming breath.

"Gaius, I think… I think I might know what's happening. I just hope to God that I'm wrong."

Arthur and Gwen looked to each other, perplexed. Last time? Had she almost lost another child? What was going on? She knew, did she?

They dried their eyes as Gaius came out, addressing them both.

"Hunith and the child are both fine. With some time, she'll be back to health."

"May we speak with her?" Gwen asked. She sounded so hopeful. Gaius raised the infamous eyebrow.

"Majesties, she is tired and must have her rest."

"But this is of utmost importance!" Truthfully, Arthur was just completely curious and really wanted to know what the heck was going on.

"Gaius, dear, I'm alright to talk. I'm sure they want to know what's going on." Came Hunith's voice, sounding stronger than before. Gaius shrugged, ushering them through the door before exiting 'to gather more ingredients.'

Gratefully, the royal couple ran inside, each giving the tired-looking woman a soft hug before sitting in the rickety chairs placed by the bed for visitors. Gwen kept eyeing the woman's stomach with wide eyes.

"So, Hunith, please explain!" Arthur begged in a very undignified way. The woman's loving face morphed into a fond smile, before it went totally blank.

"First I must ask you both a question. I expect you to answer honestly." The monarchs exchanged confused looks once again, quite worried for the woman.

"Okay."

"Do you swear to tell me the complete and uncensored truth, Arthur Pendragon?"

"I swear on my life." He said right away, meaning every word. Hunith relaxed slightly, but her face never changed.

"Is Merlin dead?"

"…_what?"_ Arthur whispered, and Gwen covered her mouth in shock. The king could see the pain in the mother's eyes, and knew she was prepared for the worst. So, he took a deep breath, put on his brave face, and answered.

"Yes." Hunith's face then did a mixture of things. She showed great pain, great loss, sorrow, denial, but then there was also… relief?

"Alright. My… son… has passed." She said, her voice wavering with emotion.

"Hunith, I know it's not my place, but you seem to be taking this a bit… too well." And it was all true. Even as king it would never be his place to interfere with Hunith's life choices, with the way she acted, with the way she chose to care for her son or herself. She had earned that respect from him.

It was also true that she was taking the news too well. While Arthur always hoped the families of fallen soldiers would take it well, he suddenly realized how much he preferred the screams of anguish and loss to this stony silence and acceptance. Then at least he knew what he was dealing with.

"It… it is nothing, my Lord. Think nothing of it. I am tired, 'tis all." She apologized, making him suspicious.

"Ahm, Hunith, when we were in the hallway, waiting, we heard you say something about 'not wanting to go through this again'? What did you mean, if it's not too much to ask." Gwen inquired delicately, and Hunith looked pained for a moment before turning to look out the window, thinking.

"No, it's just a bad memory, 'tis all. But I suppose the way to defeat the bad memories is to share them. Alright, I'll tell you. It was twenty-two years ago, and I was around eight months pregnant with my firstborn, my precious babe." She smiled lovingly and rubbed her stomach.

"Merlin." Gwen said.

"Aye. I was so very thrilled to be having a child! I had always wanted some of my own. And to have a small piece of Balinor with me, it just served as quite a comfort for me. So, I was due at any time within four weeks, and then I had this awful pain in my stomach. Naturally, I'd thought I was in labor a bit early. The midwife was called for, but by the time she had gotten there, I was sitting in a pool of blood." She recounted, shivering slightly. "I almost lost 'im. My precious little babe and I had almost lost 'im. They had to give me a potion to start labor, or he would most certainly die. He was born three weeks early, a premature baby. That's what they call bairns who are born too early, so they're generally less developed and smaller; and they stand a greater risk of sickness and death, since they're so weak.

So, my little Merlin was premature. They told me that, coupled with his almost-miscarriage, he stood little chance of survival. The villagers all told me not to name him, not to get too attached.

He was a tiny little thing, too! Oh so tiny. He was so thin, I could count every rib in 'im, and his fingers were so thin and long! His stomach barely held that newborn fat, and it took him twice as long to hold his own head up; his neck muscles were too weak and underdeveloped. I too was starting to have doubts about the little one's survival.

But then, a miracle. His little eyes turned more golden than the mightiest king's crown, and then he gained an extra two pounds in three days (more than he'd ever gained), just giving him enough insulation to make it through the winter. And after that, even though he was still on the small side, my little Merlin learned to run and jump and play and sing and read! He not only survived, he _thrived_.

My son, my little survivor." She added as an afterthought. By the end of her story, Gwen had tears in her eyes, and Arthur was staring like you wouldn't believe. Merlin, almost miscarried? That would have been horrible! They would never have met, Arthur would have died a prattish prince, and Hunith would have been so miserable in life!

The queen leaned forward, placing a hand atop Hunith's and looking her in the eyes intensely.

"Hunith, I am so sorry that you had to go through that terror. I know that you and your new baby will be taken care of here, don't worry. I'll never let that happen to you ever again." She promised. Hunith smiled and placed a motherly kiss on the girl's forehead.


	4. Chapter 4: Rebirth

**Okay, so just a forewarning:**

**-I SUCK at childbirth scenes, so heads up.**

**Anyways, on with the show!**

**Never Quite Lost**

"AARGH!"

"Peace, Hunith. All will be fine."

Hunith's cries of pain and Gaius' words of comfort could be heard from the hallway in which Arthur and Gwen now waited.

It had been two days since Arthur and the knights had taken the woman to Camelot, and since then she had been moved into her own personal room with an attached nursery.

Gwen had been the one to find her, huddled on the floor and crying out as her child decided it wanted to be born, _right now_. The Court Physician had run faster than any of the servants had ever seen, and now all the Pendragons could do was wait.

Hunith had been so discouraged; this would be Merlin's birth all over again. More than four weeks earlier than was healthy, with some pretty discouraging odds. Although, Gwen had made sure the odds were considerably better than with Hunith's first birth, with lots of clean water at their disposal, a warm room to stay in, unlimited food, and a clean environment.

The heavy oak door was opened, and Gaius stepped out into the hall, beckoning for Guinevere.

"Malady, she could use your support right about now." He said, and the queen hurriedly nodded and rushed inside, leaving her husband to wait and worry.

She sat in the chair by the bedside, taking Hunith's outstretched hand in her own and using her other hand to wipe a cold cloth across the woman's sweaty brow. Merlin's mother was dressed in a sleepdress, her hair held back by a kerchief and her face clean of its previous grime. Sometimes she arched her back; sometimes she cried out loudly and threw back her head. Servants bustled around the room, heating water and closing curtains, handing Gaius the things he requested.

After half an hour of on and off contractions, Hunith laughed weakly.

"No matter how small he is… he never is one… to make things… easy!" She said to Gaius, who smiled somewhat sadly. The underlying silent conversation suggested that they both knew something that the queen was not aware of.

"Now Hunith, how do you know it's a boy? It could very well be a girl." She asked kindly, humoring the probably delirious woman. Hunith winced as she powered through another pain.

"No, this'n is most certainly a boy." She said resolutely. Gwen held her hand up in surrender.

"Alright, whatever you say."

As yet another wave of agony ripped through her time-wearied body, the dark-haired woman shouted and gripped the queen's hand even tighter.

"How much longer, Gaius?" Gwen demanded, worried for the older woman's health. The old physician checked, then informed her that it would be soon.

Hunith grit her teeth and curled up slightly.

"Argh… Dammit, Merlin!" She cried, her eyes squinched shut.

"Merlin?" Gwen asked. Hunith opened her eyes and realized her mistake.

"Guenivere, now is not the time." Gaius reminded her, and she nodded with a silent oath to get her answers later.

After much screaming, sweating, pushing and praying, Hunith finally felt something she hadn't felt in twenty-two years. The significant feeling of something _leaving _her body, something she was comfortable with, and yet not.

"Oh my, Hunith, you were right!" Gwen exclaimed cheerily, trying to brighten Hunith's spirits. She knew how much the process had weakened her. "It's a boy!"

Gaius gingerly held the baby, patting his back gently- since he was so fragile- trying to get a cry out of him. When the last of the amniotic fluid was expelled, there was a tiny whimper, just enough to signify breath. The queen noticed how the aged man raised a concerned brow, and after reassuring the new mother, went over to his side as he cupped lukewarm water in his hands and rinsed it over the tiny infant.

As he was working, the gushing of the nearby maids could be heard as they spared oft a passing glance at the newest baby.

"Oh, he's a thin one!"

"Just look at those long fingers!"

"Smaller than the king was, that 'n!"

"And look at that hair!"

"Yeah, black as a crow's wing, 'tis!"

Their cooing reminded Hunith of Merlin's birth all too well.

~oOo~

"_Oh, Hunith! 'e looks just like 'is father! And look, he's got so much hair on 'is li'l head!" Crooned the midwife, Alaye, as she performed the usual tests on the newborn boy. She listened to his lungs, his heart, counted all fingers and toes, peeled back his eyelids for a quick check on his eyes, and cleaned him, before wrapping him in as warm a blanket as their small village could provide. Hunith was just so tired, and ignored the woman as she tuttered about, trying to give the new mother some hope for her son's survival._

"_His lungs and heart 're a little weak, and his muscles aren't quite finished developing, but he's as healthy as he can be in this situation. Ten little fingers and ten little toes, and he's got quite good eyes, as well!" Alaye continued, passing the child to his mother and watching with a sad smile as the woman held him close, crying silently._

_He was so beautiful, with a head covered in inky hair- a trait inherited mostly from Hunith, and round little cheeks still red and soft from birth. He lay against her chest, quietly dozing, his tiny lungs wheezing as they struggled to process oxygen for the first time. His long little legs were thin and gawky, reminding her of a baby bird._

"_Merlin." She hummed deeply to her child, and his eyes opened at the sound of his mother's voice. He awkwardly jerked his head to try and see where mother was, but it soon became apparent that she would have to help him. She shifted him in her arms so he was laying looking up at her. She gasped as she gazed upon his eyes for the first time._

_They were Balinor's eyes, most definitely. But, they had more layering to them as well. While her eyes were brown, Balinor's were bright blue. Merlin's eyes weren't the expected baby blue of each newborn, but a dark navy ring around the outsides and then ocean blue on the insides, with little flecks of brown here and there. He gazed up at her blurry form contentedly, just laying there; absorbing her scent and enjoying the comforting sound of her voice._

"_Hello, my little bird." She sang, her exhaustion and pain completely forgotten._

~oOo~

That particular memory brought a teary smile to her face, and she lay back in the mountain of pillows while she waited to hear the verdict. She kept the happy memories of her son's childhood in mind, flicking through them to keep the worry from taking hold.

Gwen glanced back at her sorrowfully, before crouching by Gaius across the room and watching as he continued a more thorough examination on his new patient.

"Gaius, what's the matter?" She asked as he frowned again. The man looked to her with a sigh.

"His lungs, they're too weak. It sounds like he has some sort of liquid still in them. And from the way he's wheezing, I'd say there's some tissue damage as well." He explained as his hands deftly wrapped the skinny little thing in a cloth diaper, then in a soft blue blanket. The whole time, the babe remained silent, staring up at the two foreign people above him with intelligent eyes.

"Will he be alright?" Gwen asked. Gaius sighed again, watching the tiny face without looking up.

"If he survives the next month, then he should be alright after. Although I fear he may always have weak lungs, possibly limiting his activities. Time will tell." With that, he stood and held the child to him, carrying him over to the large bed and placing him in his mother's outstretched arms.

As she gazed into his eyes for the first time, she gasped.

They were most certainly Balinor's eyes. While hers were a light brown, the boy's eyes were a navy ring around the outside, ocean blue on the inside with small brown flecks here and there.

They were identical to Merlin's.

"Oh Gaius," she whispered, awe-struck, "I had thought it wouldn't be the same this time, but he's just as perfect and beautiful as he was before." She smiled numbly, the past few days finally catching up to her.

"Before? Hunith, please tell me what is going on!" Gwen cried, frustrated. Hunith looked to her and smiled pityingly, nodding her head slowly.

"Alright. First, please take my son." Gwen nodded and gently took the bairn into her arms, adjusting the blankets around his face. He looked up at her with amazingly blue eyes, and cooed a bit. He weighed no more than five pounds, but he sure was lanky!

"He's beautiful, Hunith." She said, a smile in her voice. The mother smiled wider.

"Aye, he is. Now, please go fetch King Arthur. I'm sure he'd like an explanation as well." Gwen looked at her hesitantly, wondering if she should really be walking with a vulnerable baby. She had never done it before, after all. Hunith gave her an encouraging nod, and so she took a deep breath and began to walk smoothly, trying not to jostle her cargo.

The doors were opened for her as she continued walking, revealing a clearly agitated Arthur, hunched over with his face in his hands. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he leapt to his feet, a smile of relief making its way to his face at the grin his queen wore, then transforming into a look of confused awe at the squirming, wheezing bundle in her arms.

"Is that…?" He asked breathlessly, looking down into the tiny face.

"Yes. It's a boy." She replied, bouncing the child a bit to calm his movements.

"What's his name?" To this, Gwen sat silently, not having thought of that herself.

"I… He doesn't have one, yet, I guess."

"Why? Guenivere, he _will _survive, Hunith knows that right?" The queen gave him a hopeful look. Then the king noticed the child was still wheezing.

"…Gwen, why is he breathing so loudly?" Arthur asked worriedly. Gwen looked down to the bundle as it struggled to breathe, not answering her husband. With a look of understanding, the king nodded solemnly.

So, together, they made their way to Hunith's bedside, Gwen acting as though to hand the baby back to its mother, but pausing when Hunith held up a hand.

"Wait, first I must do something." She said, reaching into a pocket of her sleep-dress. She pulled out a small necklace, clasping it around her neck with shaky, tired hands. Then she held out her arms and received the newborn. The two royals sat in the chairs provided.

"Hunith, what is going on?"

"I was unsure of that myself, until earlier this morning. Now, I know it is him." She said thoughtfully.

"'Him' who?" Arthur inquired. Hunith cradled her fussing baby closer.

"Merlin."

"… what the deuce is that supposed to mean?"

"Arthur, calm yourself. She will explain." Gaius reprimanded from the other side of the bed, where he was cleaning his various medical instruments. Arthur slowly backed off, and his wife placed a steady hand on his shoulder.

"It was back when Merlin was just a few months old." She began, a wayward tear making its way down her face. "Balinor had long since left, and I had worried for a while about him. Merlin had finally learned to lift his head, and he had just recently revealed that he had magic.

I had to always keep him with me. Since Balinor and I hadn't married before he left, our son was considered a sin in our village. Only a few people actually accepted him, but they were all field-workers and so I had had to keep him strapped to my back as I too worked the harvest. I had wandered into the forest to find some water, when I came upon a large clearing, with strange markings carved in the tree trunks nearby and in the dirt. Before I could get a closer look, there was a mighty roar and then I stood before a dragon. A very large golden dragon.

I couldn't run. I was frozen on the spot, and feared for our lives. Then, the dragon spoke to me. He said, 'Peace, Hunith of Ealdor. I come bearing a message from my dragonlord, Balinor.' That, of course, got my attention. 'He says not to fear for him, for he is in good health and is in hiding.' Then he sniffed the air with his large snout and smiled at me with jagged teeth. 'I sense young Emrys is with you.' When I asked him what that meant, he explained how my son was the prophesied Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time. He told me of his destiny, to guide and protect the Once and Future King. 'Wise dragon,' said I, 'I fear my son may not survive this year's winter. I am afraid he will die. And when the other villagers find out his magic, they'll burn him for sure.' He chuckled at me, and I couldn't help pulling Merlin closer to myself. 'Do not worry about your son's life.' Said he, 'the universe cannot be lacking him. Without him, the Once and Future King will never reach his destiny. He will live for thousands of years, so he may protect his King and the land of Albion. Now, that does not mean he cannot die, for he can. But if he does before his time, his magic will surely preserve him, and give him new life.'

But my little Merlin did survive, and until this day, I had held the dragon's words as nonsense. But now I am certain of their truth."

Gwen stared at her in shock, not knowing what to say. It was Arthur who spoke.

"How are you so certain? What sign have you that Merlin is… is alive?" He demanded. Gaius and Hunith exchanged a knowing glance.

"I received my answers early this morning. I sat in my chair by the window, watching the busy marketplace as so many people scurried about. Suddenly, a large bird fluttered into the windowsill, sitting there and staring at me. I was unafraid, however, because I had experienced this same thing if but only once before. It was a falcon, dark in color and a bit smaller than other falcons, and he held something in his claws. He flew in, dropped his treasure in my lap, and flew away. It was then that I knew."

"What did it give you?" She removed one hand from under her baby, then passed him to Arthur, who awkwardly held him in his hands before Gwen guided him to his chest. Arthur smiled softly a bit, gently bouncing the babe a little and studying his sleeping face.

Hunith held up the small bottle at the end of the silver chain.

"It brought me this." She held it up for them to see, and both vaguely recognized it as the necklace the manservant had once worn around his own neck, sometimes hidden under his kerchief. Arthur remembered it as the necklace Merlin had burned with.

"Yes, that was Merlin's. But what did it tell you?" Arthur was still confused, but realization slowly dawned on the queen's face.

"The bird, Arthur, was a merlin." And then he too gained a look of realization.

"It means that… Merlin's alive! He must be out there, somewhere, and he must have sent it to you as a message! We should send out search parties at once!" He exclaimed, jumping to his feet but immediately stopping and sitting back down at Hunith's warning hand. The baby barely moved a muscle before falling into a deeper sleep.

"No, your majesty, that is not the message it was meant to deliver." She calmly said. Gaius sat on the bed by Hunith's feet, watching the royal couple as they blinked in confusion.

"The only other time I had experienced the bird's visit, sire, was hours from Merlin's birth, many years ago. It's what inspired me to name him what I did." Hunith really was hoping that they would figure it out on their own, but it became clear that they were only growing more frustrated when they couldn't. She had told Gaius everything yesterday, and so they were the only ones who knew.

At the name 'Merlin', the baby opened his eyes, fixing the king of Camelot with his piercing gaze. Arthur blanched at how similar his eyes were to his best friend's, swallowing the heavy emotions and smiling weakly at the mother.

"He certainly looks just like Merlin's little brother." He said.

By now, Gaius was visibly irritated at how slowly they were catching on, if they even were catching on at all. He stood up with an exasperated sigh.

"That _is _Merlin, boy! How did you _not _figure that out?" He cried. Arthur stared at him, silent. Then he burst into a fit of laughter, until his wife punched him in the arm.

"_Arthur._ Do you honestly think _Hunith _would make a joke regarding her _son's death?_" She accused, mortified. While it was hard to take in at first, Gwen knew deep down that it had to be true. Hunith had never lied to her before, and it also _did _explain quite a few things.

Arthur frowned, abashed, and looked down to avoid eye contact with the others- of course then making accidental eye contact with the baby he had completely forgotten about moments ago.

If this is Merlin, Arthur thought, what does that mean? Will he remember anything of his first life? Will he still have his magic? If he were raised differently, would his whole personality change? What about Hunith? She's certainly too old to re-raise him! And with his lungs the way they are, would he survive living in Ealdor?

His worried thoughts must have shown on his face, or maybe in his energy- he had read that children could tell how you felt by the energy you gave off- because the tiny baby in his arms started crying, voicing the emotions that Arthur was feeling inside. Panicking, the king looked to each of the adults around him for help. Hunith chuckled in a motherly-love kind of way.

"Arthur, dear, this is Merlin, remember? He's just the same now, as a newborn, as he was as an adult. Give him a hug, and give him affection." She encouraged, and he did as told. Carefully- he was so terrified he would break the skinny little baby- he brought him up held him against his chest, placing his round little head on his shoulder.

Merlin's skin was so warm against his shoulder, and just his presence seemed to calm Arthur. The same went with the child, whose only noises now were wet wheezes. But hearing the pitiful excuse for breathing just brought back memories of Merlin's final hours, when he spent so much energy trying to breathe around the blood filling his punctured lungs. That thought made him miss the Merlin he knew, and even though Baby Merlin was better than No Merlin, he still shuddered and got lost in his dark thoughts.

A tiny, chubby, long-fingered hand pressing against his face made him snap back to reality, and Gwen laughingly told him that Merlin wanted to stop being hugged. Complying, Arthur brought him down, holding him upright in front of himself with his hands holding the newborn's head up and staring into his blue eyes. The baby reached a wavering hand up to his face, pressing a single finger to a spot on his cheek. Then, stunning Arthur, the infant's eyes flashed a brilliant gold and suddenly the tears that had been unknowingly been flowing down his face were gone. Dissipated.

Merlin dropped his hand then, looking directly into Arthur's eyes once more with such intensity for one so young. The king looked up to Hunith and Gaius, eyes wide.

"Did he just use magic?" He asked. Gaius chuckled.

"Did he?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. I mean, he made my tears disappear and I could have sworn his eyes had changed color. But surely it's impossible for him to use it so early on?" Now it was Hunith's turn to chuckle.

"Arthur, dear, Merlin was born with it, remember? Before, he had used it at a month old. Though I admit it is earlier than last time, it doesn't quite surprise me."

"Does anything?"

"Hey, you try having him for a son. I tell ye, he was a random one."

They all laughed.

"Yes, he probably used magic. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only reason I feel well enough to discuss this with you is because of him. He sensed my pain and weakness and gave me strength."

Arthur was struck by the strangeness of this conversation. A newborn warlock. That was definitely a first for him. As he gazed down at the delicate being in his arms, he couldn't help wondering what evil Uther could have seen in this race. He had killed hundreds of thousands of innocent little children just like little Merlin, just for having powers they did not ask for. It made him sick to think about, but once again sensing his other half's sadness through some secret psychic link, baby Merlin reached an uncoordinated hand up to his cheek; he held his palm to it and splayed his fingers unlike last time, and, knowing what would happen next, Arthur watched in awe as the hours-old infant's blue eyes began to glow steadily; the bright gold of pure, uncontrolled magic of innocent children. His little hand began to glow against his cheek as well, and as they all watched quietly, Arthur began to brighten, dark thoughts pushed very far back in his mind and happy feelings and simplicity going through it instead. Merlin dropped his little arm back to his side, falling into a deep sleep within seconds, still wheezing pitifully.

Gaius came over and took the babe from the king's arms, relishing a moment with his adopted nephew before passing him to his mother to be nursed.

As they all left the room, not one of them could seem to find a reason to stop beaming.

**I know I made Gwen and Arthur seem a little stupid in that one part. I know most of you probably figured it all out a few thousand words ago. But, if you think about it, to ya'll it's just a story. You expect crazy things like that to happen. But for the characters I'd imagine it would be rather far-fetched and impossible to guess for someone to technically be reborn.**

**Anyways, hope I cleared that up alright.**


	5. Chapter 5: Lullaby

**Guys, before I say anything else, I would like to point out how disappointed and discouraged I am by the lack of reviews. I heartily appreciate your follows, favorites, and such, but reviews are very satisfying as well, and let me know what I'm doing right and what you think needs to change. Feedback is the only profit I get from this, and I'd love to get lots of it! I wanted to thank the one person who left a review, but it isn't letting me type your name! You know who you are!**

**Author note: this chapter contains Gaelic singing in it. I know only Colin Morgan is Irish, not Merlin, but I thought it'd be cool if he was bilingual and had different ancestry.**

**The song sung in this chapter is called **_**Sleepsong **_**by Secret Garden, and it's originally in English even though it's a Gaelic lullaby. I translated it (and all other Gaelic) using Google Translate, so any grammatical/other errors may be blamed on that.**

**Never Quite Lost: Lullaby**

"Oh, Merlin, you must sleep, child!" Hunith exclaimed, pacing the length of the nursery and trying to be heard over the incessant wailing. The ruckus had drawn a few servants, all young women with a soft spot for children, each offering their assistance and each being turned down by the weary mother of the week-old babe.

Merlin ignored her pleas, continuing to cry loudly, fat tears rolling down his round face and his arms flailing in his displeasure. He would pause in his crying every few seconds to cough horribly, sometimes having mucus come from his lungs. If he continued on this way, Hunith feared it could cause more damage to his already weak lungs.

And she could also use some sleep.

Only after a half hour of this did Queen Guenivere happen to be walking by the noisy chambers, right when Hunith had had enough.

"Tost, leanbh! Ní mór duit a chodladh!"Hunith cried, accidentally slipping into Gaelic- her first tongue- like she did whenever she felt too intense an emotion. Gwen, hearing her outburst and not having known that Hunith spoke Gaelic, was curious, to say the least. Creeping closer to the slightly-opened door, she lowered herself quietly onto the hallway bench, listening intently.

She heard the new(ish) mother sigh in frustration, before exhaling once more, but this time to relieve her pent-up stress. The infant in her arms had finally stopped crying after her outburst, watching her curiously and wheezing heavily. This gave the woman an idea.

"You like that, yeah? Is maith leat é seo?" The child made a contented coo, and Hunith smiled now that she had found his weakness.

"Conas mar gheall ar shuantraí, eh?" She gathered her thoughts, brought the memory of the words her mother had sung to her mind, and sucked in a breath, slowly rocking the child.

"Leag síos do cheann agus beidh mé a chanadh tú shuantraí

Ar ais go dtí na blianta de loo-li Lai-ley

Agus beidh mé a chanadh tú a chodladh, agus beidh mé a chanadh tú amárach

Beannaigh tú le grá don bhóthar a théann tú"

She sang in Gaelic, her voice beautifully harmonious even after years without using it so. She made even Gwen want to sleep. The queen peered stealthily around the corner, watching as Hunith walked slowly back and forth, rocking little Merlin, whose eyelids were fluttering a bit. She could barely see the fond smile gracing the mother's face as she watched her precious baby. Her skirts swished rhythmically as she swayed in time to the lullaby.

"Go raibh tú ag seoltóireacht i bhfad go dtí na réimsí thall den fhortún

Le diamonds agus péarlaí ar do cheann agus do chosa

Agus is féidir riamh is gá duit misfortune a banish

Go raibh tú teacht ar cineáltas i ngach go gcomhlíonann tú"

Her voice was haunting and sweet to the ear. Gwen found herself swaying slightly as well. She watched with a smile as the babe- despite his tiredness- forced his eyes to stay open, watching his mother's mouth curiously as it made the pretty sounds. He was fascinated by it, enchanted even. He somehow knew deep down what she was generally saying- in his own simplified baby way- and also recognized the language of his mother only. The other big people sure didn't talk like that.

"D'fhéadfadh a bheith ann i gcónaí aingeal chun féachaint thar tú

Chun tú a threorú ar gach céim ar an mbealach

A garda tú, agus tú a choinneáil slán ó gach dochar

Loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley"

Even in his obvious fascination, even being the mighty Emrys: all-powerful warlock, he still couldn't keep himself fully awake. His little eyelids closed, and he laid there in his mother's warm embrace, his face resting against her chest as he simply enjoyed the melodic sound of her voice, and the vibrations her singing caused in her chest; that mixed with the steady beat of her heart- a sound he knew quite well-, it created the most beautiful, most pleasing noise he had ever heard.

"Go raibh tú a thabhairt grá agus is féidir leat a thabhairt sonas

A bheith grá i filleadh ar deireadh do laethanta

Anois titim as a chodladh, nach bhfuil mé ag a chiallaíonn chun tú a choinneáil

Feicfidh mé ach suí ar feadh tamaill agus a chanadh loo-li, Lai-ley"

As she listened to the sweet lullaby that she didn't understand, Gwen could almost hear the violins and the harps playing along to the song. She wanted so desperately to understand what she was saying, what blessings she was placing upon her baby, so that maybe she too could someday learn it and sing it to her own babies. This thought brought a strong sense of grief with it, and she had to stifle her sobs to keep from being caught eavesdropping. She knew this was probably a very intimate moment between mother and son, but she couldn't help but enjoy it. She leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, stopped thinking, and just _listened_, letting her grief wash away in the smooth river Hunith's song created.

"D'fhéadfadh a bheith ann i gcónaí aingeal chun féachaint thar tú

Chun tú a threorú ar gach céim ar an mbealach

A garda tú, agus tú a choinneáil slán ó gach dochar

Loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley, loo-li, loo-li, Lai-ley ... "

She eventually reached the end, repeating 'loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley' and trailing off into silence. When Gwen looked again, Hunith was gently moving the miniature baby into a position where she could see his face; she smiled lovingly when she realized he was in a peaceful sleep. She placed a gentle kiss to his thick, curly head of hair before carefully laying him in his cot, covering him in his extra blankets before whispering, "Oíche mhaith, mo Merlin daor." And blowing out the lone candle in the room, then exiting through the small door opposite into her own chambers, bedding down for the night.

Gwen sat there for a long time, her heart swelling with so many emotions and warmth at the beautiful thing she had just had the privilege to witness.

And so, every once and a while, when she was feeling overwhelmed or upset, Queen Guenivere would simply start humming the haunting Gaelic lullaby and find herself in her happiest place.

´*。¨* ✫ " ✫. ¨¯*。. ¨*。¯` ¸.✫˚¯`

**This chapter was really more of a one-shot, but I promise there will be more of the main storyline to come!**

**Translations:**

**Silence, child! You need to sleep!**

**Do you like this?**

**How about a lullaby, eh?**

**(After Song) Good night, my dear Merlin.**

_**Sleepsong**_** English Version (Before I translated it to Gaelic/ Irish, whatever you wanna call it):**

**Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby Back to the years of loo-li lai-ley **

**And I'll sing you to sleep, and I'll sing you tomorrow **

**Bless you with love for the road that you go**

**May you sail far to the far fields of fortune, With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet, And may you need never to banish misfortune, May you find kindness in all that you meet **

**May there always be angels to watch over you, To guide you each step of the way, To guard you and keep you safe from all harm, Loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley**

**May you bring love and may you bring happiness, Be loved in return to the end of your days, Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you, I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-ley **

**May there always be angels to watch over you To guide you each step of the way To guard you and keep you safe from all harm Loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley, loo-li, loo-li, lai-ley...**

**It's a very beautiful song, and I hope you will all listen to it!**


	6. Chapter 6: Home

**Never Quite Lost: Home**

"Hunith?" Called Guenivere as she entered the woman's chambers. She was nowhere in sight. Gwen called for her again.

"I'm in here, milady." Hunith answered quietly, appearing from Merlin's nursery and making a motion for her to stay quiet.

"Is he sleeping?" The queen asked, tilting her head towards the room where the babe was. His mother nodded, looking relieved.

"Good. Arthur and I would like to speak with you." She started to lead the way, but stopped when she realized that Hunith wasn't following her. Her eyes were wide.

"Don't worry, I've sent for Hannah to watch him while we're gone. She's a wonderful nanny, I promise. Now, come along." Gwen said kindly, walking down the hall. With one last anxious peek at the sleeping baby, the older woman followed.

~oOo~

"So, Lady Hunith, what do you plan to do now, may I ask?" King Arthur asked from his throne next to Queen Guenivere. Hunith stood before them, hands clasped behind her back.

"Arthur, I am unsure. I suppose I must take him back to Ealdor since my home is there." He held in his childish protests. He _really _didn't want them to go.

"But, Hunith, you cannot raise a newborn infant on your own at your age! And how would he survive, with such harsh conditions and weak lungs? It's not logical." He said, trying to find some kind of reason he could use. Hunith smiled sadly.

"I am aware. But there are duties back in the village that I must get back to, or I will have no way to support us." Arthur got an idea.

"Lady Hunith, what if you were to stay here, in the castle? You could have work in the kitchens, and then you'd have nannies to watch Merlin while you worked." He smirked at his brilliant idea. Hunith had to admit; she did like the sound of living in the castle, with enough food and warmth.

"I would like that, but I cannot accept. I do not want my son raised by nannies. He needs to be raised by parents, not hired help."

This got Gwen thinking. Working in the kitchens was fairly easy work, but it lasted mostly all day, four days a week. They needed Hunith to stay, but she wouldn't stay without being able to do something in return- that's just the kind of woman she was. And servitude was out of the question- that meant leaving the castle frequently. There were no other jobs she could do. If only they had a set of parents who could watch Merlin while Hunith worked. Gaius could help out with studies and such, but as Court Physician he often dealt with dangerous diseases, and had to leave often as well.

Then she got another brilliant idea.

"Hunith, while you work, we'll take care of little Merlin." She announced, and Hunith smiled. Arthur, surprisingly, immediately nodded.

"Are you sure, majesties?" She asked, wondering if this was a good idea. It sounded nice, and she could see the longing in Gwen's eyes. Poor girl, she thought, lost so much. Her grin returned, her decision made.

"Alright. We will stay. I will start work in two weeks."

~oOo~

As Gwen and Arthur exited the throne room later that day, it was a combined effort to keep each other from doing something stupid in their giddiness. Finally, after so many pains and much sadness, they would be getting a child. Well, sort of.

Although this would be a joyous occasion for both, there was still much grief as well. Their two still-born, Milleah and Tobias, had forever taken a part of each of their hearts, leaving a large hole that would never be filled. Hopefully Merlin could at least do so partially.

But their jovial mood was once again tarnished that night, in their chambers. Gwen sat by her mirror, brushing her hair and watching her husband's reflection as he signed documents at the table.

"Arthur… I don't think I can do this." She said, placing the brush on the vanity.

"Do what?" Asked the king, not looking up and scribbling his signature absentmindedly on yet another document. The queen sighed and walked over, sitting in the chair beside him.

"Baby Merlin." At this, Arthur looked up to her face, where tears began to fall.

"Whyever not, my love?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"Because… the more I see him, the more I am reminded of Tobias. I think of what could have been, what never will be. They look so much alike, didn't you see? Blue eyes and dark, wavy hair. I'm scared, Arthur. What if I can't do anything right?" She began sobbing, covering her face with her hands with her elbows on the wooden table.

The king of Camelot frowned, before standing from his chair and kneeling by her side.

"Guenivere, you will be wonderful. Don't ever doubt yourself, hear? You are so intelligent and sweet and the perfect mother material. Merlin will have a wonderful childhood with you in it." He comforted, pulling her into his arms.

"Everything will be fine."

"Swear?" Arthur had to smile at the childish question, but nodded.

"I swear on my life, Guenivere." She looked up at him, and smiled too.


	7. Chapter 7: Breathe

**Argos: Thank you so much for both of your wonderful reviews! Your enthusiasm is awesome! I'm glad you liked the song, and yeah, it's a definite favorite of mine as well! I am planning on doing a Merlin-Gwaine thing soon, so be sure to watch my next updates! I am so glad to have such a wonderful reader as you!**

**Hope ya'll don't kill me for the excess of Merlin whumpage.**

**Never Quite Lost: Breathe**

"Come on, Merlin! _Breathe_!" Gwen encouraged of the two-week-old as he struggled to take a breath, tears running down his cheeks and his eyes wide with panic. His shirt was stained with his own sick.

She kept him clutched to her bosom as she sprinted down the large hallways to the Court Physician's chambers. Her dark purple skirts flew high behind her, she was going so fast. She had long since lost her sandals in favor of going barefoot, to increase speed. The infant's face was turning blue, and his wheezes were thick enough to cut with a knife. Only about a tenth of the air he took in would actually reach his damaged lungs, and he in turn would cough harder, which in turn made his throat harder for breathing.

Guenivere practically bulldozed the thin wooden barrier that was the door and immediately started shouting.

"Gaius! Gaius, _help me!_" She screamed as Merlin grew weaker and his fingernails turned blue as well. She kept running, right up to the empty cot and laying the baby boy on top, holding his little head still, pinching his nose and breathing into his mouth, hoping to buy him some more time. A little more color was in his cheeks, but it still wasn't enough.

"_Gaius!_" She screamed helplessly again, tears now on her face as well.

"What is it, Gwen?" the elderly man demanded urgently as he stepped through the open door. Gwen sighed in relief and hurriedly ushered him over to the struggling child.

"Good Lord, Merlin!" The physician cried, and immediately set to work. With Gwen's help, Merlin's miniature baby clothes were removed, leaving him in his diaper. His tiny chest was shaking horribly and without a particular rhythm as he fought to process oxygen. The aged man sat him up, Gwen supporting his head, and began hitting his back as hard as he could with a baby, until a gob of bloody sputum flew from the baby's mouth and he sucked in a rugged breath. He then cried quite loudly, tears still falling. A nearby vase exploded, spilling its dusty herbs to the ground. He kept sobbing until his cries turned to hiccups, and he was breathing heavily.

"Atsa boy, Merlin." Gaius soothed, rubbing circles into the soft skin of his back. He went to a nearby table covered in who-knows-what, grabbed an herb and mixed it into a purple mixture, before instructing the queen to lay him back down. He poured the fowl-smelling concoction down his throat, and smiled in satisfaction when it was swallowed. He stepped back, running his eyes over Merlin and making sure he was alright.

The child sat there, vaguely noticing their presences with his poor eyesight, bringing his tiny feet up into the air and holding them with his hands.

"Gwen, please tell me what exactly happened." Gaius requested, and the queen nodded. He ushered her to a nearby chair, grabbed Merlin and sat across from her, the boy lying against his chest.

"Well, Hunith had gone into town to get some specific things for Merlin, and she asked me to watch him. I readily agreed, because I was currently unoccupied and love spending time with him." She began, tickling the infant's chin as she spoke. "I had just read him a short story, and was going to call for a maid to get him some food. I placed him in his cot, and then went out slightly into the hall and called Mari, and sent her to the kitchens. By the time I had returned, he was making the most horrible noises, and I couldn't get him to breathe! He vomited all over himself, and that's when I flung off my shoes, took him up, and ran here." Gwen finished. Gaius frowned thoughtfully, turning Merlin around so he was facing him.

"There may be more to his weak lungs than we thought, milady." He said cryptically. He stepped forward, placing Merlin in the queen's lap and waiting until her hands were holding him upright before beginning a more thorough medical examination.

He ran a finger down his naked back, tracing his spine. Turning him back around, he gently pressed a finger into the base of his ribcage, right over the thin scar marring the smooth skin, and stopping when the child cried out in discomfort. Gaius recalled Hunith's concerned remark a few days ago about the scar not having been there the last time.

"Guenivere, how did Merlin die?" He asked bluntly. She sucked in a breath and carefully pondered her words.

"Well, according to Sir Lancelot, he was stabbed from his abdomen and up into his ribcage." She said, a worried look on her features. Baby Merlin grunted as if in agreement. The physician snapped his fingers, as if he had just had an 'ah-hah!' moment.

"Gwen, when he died, there must have been considerable damage to his lungs. And the scar on his chest matches the description. His lungs are weak because they were permanently damaged in his past life!" Now Gwen was nodding thoughtfully, it did make sense.

"So, does that mean this will never go away?" Gaius looked down to his naked patient, who was flapping his arms in excitement over something or other.

"I do not know, my dear girl." He said sadly, placing a caressing finger against the fuzzy cheek. "But I can try and come up with a more effective tonic for him, maybe help him stay breathing easier. Come now, let's get him dressed in some clean clothes."

She and Gaius proceeded down the long corridors, back to Merlin's nursery, not caring about the strange glances they received. Once there, they both carefully pulled some clean, warm clothes over his lithe frame, and the Court Physician explained some things she could do when he had these attacks. By the time the discussion had finished, the raven-haired boy was asleep in Guenivere's arms, and she smiled lovingly down at him. Oh, how she wished she could have her own! No, she scolded herself, Merlin was her surrogate now, and she would treat him as such with no sadness.

Right then, of course, was when his little lungs decided they wanted to rebel again, and Merlin was left gasping for breath. Gaius was on his feet in an instant, snatching Merlin from Gwen's arms and holding him horizontally, his arm going under his legs and holding up his chin, with his tiny bum against Gaius' upper arm.

He had earlier told Gwen this was called the 'Quilt Hold', since the child looked so much like a quilt hanging on the drying line.

With his other hand, he began patting the boy's back lightly, bouncing him just slightly in hopes to dislodge whatever was blocking his trachea this time.

"Merlin!" Gwen cried. She tried helping by comforting the small child, speaking softly with reassuring words. It wasn't working. He had silent tears going down his face and dripping to the floor below.

"Quick, Gwen! Send for my kit!" Gaius ordered. Gwen hurried out into the hall, called a nearby servant over, and gave him instructions to get Gaius' supply kit, and hurry.

"Gaius! What's happened?" Came Hunith's demanding question as she rushed through the doorway, dropped her bags, and ran to the physician's side.

"He's got something blocking his airway." He explained, patting harder. The baby had began choking, slobber mingling with the tears leaving his face.

"Quick, give him to me." Hunith said, taking control and seizing her child from her surrogate brother. She brought him over her shoulder, hitting his back as hard as she could without harming him, and was rewarded with a giant gob of mucus, scar tissue, and blood being spit down her back and onto the floor.

The baby continued to sputter, though, and Hunith had to bring him down from her shoulder and press lightly on his chest, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Mac. Ní mór duit a ghlacadh anáil, Merlin!" She said in Gaelic. The child looked to her with curiosity before sucking in a raspy breath, then another, more powerful one and sobbing out loud.

"Oh, son, I know it hurts. I know it's scary. But you'll be alright. Beidh gach rud a bheith díreach fíneáil." He sobbed, frightened, into her neck, his fearful face making Guenivere cringe.

"Gaius, what is going on?" Hunith asked after her son was once again asleep. Gaius paused.

"Hunith, did you ever find out how your son died?" He asked. She raised her brow while her eyes became misty.

"No." She said determinedly. Her face was set harder than stone. "I never needed nor wanted to know." Normally they would have taken the cue to not discuss it, but she needed to hear.

"Hunith, he was stabbed. From the base of his ribs and up into the ribcage. He died from massive internal bleeding and punctured lungs. Now, you said that scar on his chest was new? It is most likely from when he was stabbed in his past life. It would also explain why he is coughing up scar tissue, blood and mucus. His lungs have been permanently damaged from that injury." The boy's mother stared at him, clenching her jaw.

"My poor Merlin." She finally said, looking down into the angelic face of the sleeping baby in her arms. He was as perfect as she remembered, with his rosy, round cheeks, a button nose with heart-shaped nostrils, thick eyelashes, full, red cupid's-bow lips, and his signature stick-out ears that barely fit him now, but would eventually grow at twice the rate as Merlin did. She could hardly bear to imagine this innocent, sweet creature going through such horror as her oldest friend had described. "My poor baby."

"Will it affect his life?" She asked. She couldn't handle his second chance at life being ruined because his first had ended in such a grisly way.

"I am afraid that it will for the first two decades or so of his life, if not more. But do not despair, sister, for I can easily create a tonic for him that will take the pain away and help him to breathe easier. His physical activities just might be more limited, 'tis all." He hurriedly reassured her before she could start wailing. At this, she nodded solemnly, bidding Gaius to hurry with the tonic's creation. He nodded and left the room, meeting the servant sent to bring his supplies half way and walking back to his own chambers with his kit in tow. Until he had come up with something to keep little Merlin alive and pain-free, he would not rest.

Back in the nursery, Gwen was assisting Hunith in getting Merlin ready for bed. It was early evening, and he would need lots of rest after today's episodes. While Hunith changed her son into some softer, more comfortable slacks and shirt, Gwen- thankful for her years of servant skills- efficiently changed the sick-stained sheets of his cot. When that was finished, he was gently placed inside, which caused him to stir a little and open his bright blue eyes.

He was upset, Gwen realized, but too tired to show it. Hunith had fed him less than an hour before, and his clothes and sheets had been changed, but he was upset at not being in his mother's arms. She could see from the longing in his eyes that he so desperately wanted to be _near _her, to hear her voice, her heartbeat, feel her work-worn skin against his, to smell her distinct scent, to see her cherished face. Babies at his age mainly preferred seeing faces to inanimate objects, could just barely focus their eyes to see faces a few inches away; and, magical or not, Merlin was no exception. Hunith seemed to notice this, too; she chuckled tiredly, and obliged. She held him softly in her arms and sat in the rocking chair, where she could be near the fire to keep the premature infant warm. She made sure to position him just close enough that he could see her face.

Seeing Gwen standing awkwardly, Hunith smiled fondly, and waved her over to the chair across from her. The queen settled her skirts around herself and got comfortable, smiling back to the older woman. They sat there silently for a bit, just rocking in their chairs, as Merlin stared up at his mother.

"I heard you singing to him a few days ago." Gwen commented, and Hunith smiled again.

"Really?"

"Yes, you have a beautiful voice." Hunith chuckled a little.

"Thank you. My mother used to sing that lullaby to me when I was very little. I sang it to Merlin too, and that's mainly how he learned Gaelic- through me, and the little things I would mutter when I thought he wasn't listening. See, I was originally from another small village, where Gaelic was the native language. I moved to Ealdor after ten years, and had to learn English. Merlin first learned English, but when he began repeating the phrases I would say sometimes and when he showed true curiosity, I taught him. It was quite a sweet thing to hear; he would always call me 'madra' because he thought it sounded like 'mama'. So he would walk around town calling me 'dog', and I would be the only one who understood what he was saying and start laughing. It was quite the sight!" She sighed happily at the memories.

Gwen sat silently for a moment before asking, "Are you going to teach him this time?"

"Aye. I think it would be good for him to be able to communicate with his extended family, since they're all Gaelic and will probably visit at some point. A lot of our heritage is Irish, and it is important for him to be a part of it. In fact, it may be his first language this time, depending on how frustrated he'll make me." She said with a wink.

"Will you teach me?" Hunith looked at her quietly, and Gwen blushed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I mean, I just thought it would be nice to know it and then I could talk to him in his native language and I also noticed he seems to listen more when you speak it so I thought-" Hunith held up a hand, silencing her.

"Calm down, dear. Of course I will teach you! I was just surprised you would even want to learn, since most wouldn't! I would be honored." Gwen bowed her head in thanks.

"Ah, Merlin! Why will you not sleep?" The mother said in exasperation.

"Why don't you sing him another lullaby? Do you know any others?" Hunith looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes, I do, actually. Merlin, tá mé an lullaby idéalach chun tú." This seemed to get the bairn's limited attention, and he looked up at her with a coo. She smiled before collecting her thoughts, and took a deep breath.

"A sheoladh ar mo mhac ceanndána

beidh an tsíocháin nuair atá tú ag déanamh

leagan do cheann traochta a gcuid eile

ná caoin níos mó"

She sang, and the child kicked his legs excitedly as he realized he was getting more Gaelic singing. It just felt so _right _to him.

"Nuair a d'ardaigh mé os cionn an torainn agus mearbhall

ach a fháil le léargas níos faide ná an illusion

Bhí mé ag ardú as cuimse riamh níos airde

go dtí go eitil mé ró-ard"

Gwen closed her eyes with a smile. She would definitely love to learn this language.

"cé gur féidir le mo shúile a fheiceáil, bhí mé fós fear dall

cé go bhféadfadh mo intinn smaoineamh, bhí mé fós ina fhear buile

Cloisim na guthanna agus mé ag brionglóideach

Is féidir liom a chloisteáil dóibh a rá"

By now, Merlin's eyes were slowly slipping shut and his lips would smack happily every few moments.

"A sheoladh ar mo mhac ceanndána

beidh an tsíocháin nuair atá tú ag déanamh

leagan do cheann traochta a gcuid eile

ná caoin níos mó"

Hunith slowly rose from her seat and glided over to the cot, placing the delicate sleeping babe inside.

Ná tú caoin ...níos...mó..." She faded off, placing a kiss on Merlin's forehead. She and Guenivere snuck through the door and into Hunith's chambers to talk for a while whilst they still had the time.

***Dodges flying shoe***** I know, I know, you're sick of the Gaelic lullabies. I just love having Hunith sing them. For any Gaelic/Irish people out there, I'm sure you've found a whole plethora of mistakes, but please blame Google Translate, as I cannot actually speak Gaelic.**

**Yes, that song was **_**Carry On My Wayward Son **_**by Kansas, and it is one of the awesomest songs on the planet. I know it's a bit out of place in Arthurian legend, but it's a beautiful song (especially the lullaby version, which I used for this) and it [lullaby version] could be passed off as time-appropriate in all technicality.**

**Translations:**

**Son. You must take a deep breath, Merlin!**

**Everything will be fine.**

**Merlin, I have the perfect lullaby for you.**

**Carry On My Wayward Son (Lullaby Version, before I had it translated to Gaelic)**

**Carry on my wayward son**

**There will be peace when you are done**

**Lay your weary head to rest**

**Do not cry anymore**

**Once I rose above the noise and confusion**

**Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion**

**I was soaring ever higher**

**Until I flew too high**

**Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man**

**Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man**

**I hear the voices when I'm dreaming**

**I can hear them say**

**(Chorus)**

**Don't you cry… no… more…**


	8. Chapter 8: Introductions

**Alright, I know many of you are probably upset about the whumpage to a baby in the last chapter. I promise, he'll be okay; I just wanted to add some ****sort of obstacle he'd have to live with and eventually overcome. Yes, there will be times when little Merlin will cough and choke, but I promise I won't add any more hurting to a baby than that. And thank God for Gaius, who can help him stay healthy and pain-free! The only damage done to Merlin from his lungs will be the scariness of it at first. After awhile, he'll cope, I promise!**

**Argos: Don't cry! He'll be fine after awhile, don't worry!**

**Thanks again to everyone who's been reviewing; keep 'em coming!**

**Never Quite Lost: Introductions**

"Sire, your knights have returned." Said Callum, a fairly new red-headed servant, through the doorway. Arthur nodded in response, tightening his belt about his waist and mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

A day after Hunith's rescue, Sirs Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, and Leon had been sent on an urgent mission to aid several towns, which were being brutally attacked.

Not being able to put off meeting them any longer, King Arthur clasped his cape in place and walked formally out into the courtyard, where- to his relief- all of the knights were unloading their horses. They seemed a little worse for wear, but all in all uninjured.

Gwaine approached him first, nodding his head with a muffled 'Princess' before walking past him. Even after three weeks away, Gwaine had barely recovered from Merlin's death. Arthur wondered if he would be happy that Merlin was a baby. Angry, maybe? Probably pretty upset.

The rest of the knights were a bit more formal, but still quite stiff and depressed. Guenivere was waiting for them in the meeting hall, and from the way she was fidgeting, the king knew she was pretty eager to share the news. Now, he was excited, yes, but he also felt a small sense of trepidation. How would they react?

Upon the Royals' request, Hunith was not informed of this meeting. They wanted to wait until later for the knights to get their meetings in.

As each of the knights settled into their places at the round table, Arthur stood and leaned on his hands.

"Sir Leon, please share your report." He said, starting the meeting. Leon stood, bowing his head slightly.

"Sire, the attackers turned out to be several druids left from Camlann. They were seeking revenge for Mordred's death, and had been trying to draw you out of Camelot to attack you. We were able to diminish the threat, and help rebuild several burnt homes. No losses on our side."

"Thank you, Leon. Good work, to all of you. Now, we-" He was cut off by Gwaine's muttered, 'would have been so much simpler with Merlin.' He glared at the knight before continuing, glancing down to Gwen for support.

"We have some news that we wish to share. I am sure all of you remember the incident with Lady Hunith a few weeks ago." This got all of their attention, including a rather pouty Gwaine. They all leaned forwards in their seats, worried frowns adorning their faces.

"Well, as it turns out, she was not in labor that day, but had almost suffered miscarriage." At this, several mouths opened in shock and sorrow. Then, Lancelot spoke up, perking up a few of them.

"'Almost'?" He asked. Arthur nodded with a small grin.

"Yes, according to Gaius, both mother and child had been saved just in time. With rest, both will recover." They all relaxed.

"However, there is further news to be shared. Just two days afterwards, she went into labor, and gave birth." Lancelot, Gwaine, and Percival jumped up from their seats, all looking frantic with worry once again. They all thought of Hunith as an honorable mother figure, and they wouldn't be able to stand it if they lost her so soon after Merlin. Leon and Elyan remained seated, just a bit calmer.

"Are they alright?"

"Did it survive?"

"Is Hunith healthy?"

Their demands all merged into one, and the noise was giving the king a headache. He held up a hand, and they silenced impatiently. Gwen stood up, patting her husband on the shoulder and taking his place as spokesperson. The king sat down with a thump.

"Yes, calm yourselves. Lady Hunith is alright, and the child- although premature- will be fine if it lasts the month. Gaius is keeping a close eye on it." She reassured, while purposely leaving out any details about the child's gender, leaving them all looking curious.

"So, what is it?" Elyan asked from his seat. Gwen smiled at her brother before explaining.

"It is a beautiful baby boy with dark, curly hair and the bluest eyes you can imagine." Arthur smiled behind his hand. They all stared in awe at the description.

"Does he have a name yet?" Gwaine asked, his previous bad mood forgotten momentarily. At this, Gwen's face turned serious and she beckoned them all to sit. They did, leaning forward to show how eager they were.

"Yes, he does, but this is where everything gets very complicated. I want you all to swear that you will listen to the whole explanation before you so much as move. Can you swear?"

"My lady, we swear on our honor." Said Lancelot truthfully. They nodded in agreement.

"Alright. We found out from Hunith that this particular child is very important. I don't know how to explain this well, so bear with me. First, I think I'll start by telling you his name." She smiled sadly. "His name is Merlin." She quickly made a scolding noise at Gwaine, who was about to stand angrily. He frowned but remained seated.

"Now, Hunith learned from Merlin's dragon many years ago that Merlin was destined to live for thousands of years, as to serve the Once and Future King and Albion. Merlin was only an infant at the time, strapped to his mother's back. She had expressed her fears to the dragon of Merlin's death, since he was born premature and was too small to possibly survive the upcoming winter. And, she said, if the other villagers found out, they would surely burn him for his magic. The dragon told her that yes, even though he is destined to live for so long, he can die. He said if he died before his time, his magic would surely preserve him and give him new life. Now, Merlin did survive the winter because he used his magic and gained just barely enough weight. But, Hunith is now sure that this new baby is Merlin reborn." The knights all sat in stunned silence, not sure if they wanted to believe that just maybe there was a slight possibility that Merlin lived.

"What proof have you? How do you dare say this babe is Merlin? What proof justifies your claims?" Gwaine raged, standing and openly challenging the queen. Arthur seethed and the other knights stood to apprehend him, but Gwen raised a hand again and said, "No, it is alright. I do have proof that I will be glad to share with you, Sir Gwaine." She smiled, emphasizing 'Sir'. He had the grace to look slightly abashed, but continued to stare at her intensely. She sighed before gathering her thoughts and listing her evidence.

"First of all, I need you to come here, Sophie." She called, and her maidservant came rushing to her side. Gwen whispered something in her ear, and the girl smiled and nodded quickly before running out the great wooden doors.

"Alright, while she does that, I will list a few facts. First, this babe has magic. He used it just hours after his birth. Second, a falcon- or otherwise known as a merlin- visited Hunith through her open window, just hours before she gave birth. The merlin delivered her a necklace that Merlin himself used to wear, a small jar on a chain with many small pieces of parchment. Arthur claims it is the one he burned with." Percival and Lancelot were nodding dumbly. "Next, he has a long, thin scar at the base of his ribcage, exactly where Arthur claims Merlin was stabbed. Hunith explained that the scar was not there when Merlin was born. Also, he was born almost exactly four weeks early, the same as when Merlin was born. He is also the spitting image of Merlin, you'll see in a moment- ah! Sophie! Perfect timing!" She praised as the petite maidservant rushed through the doors once again, a blue blanket clutched in her arms protectively. She came up to the queen, handing her bundle to her and saying, "Lady Hunith says she will be down shortly." Gwen nodded, and the girl backed up to stand in the corner as she had been previously.

Gwen smiled lovingly at the bundle, and when she leaned it a little so that her husband could see it from his seat, he smiled affectionately as well. The knights, unable to tell what it was, watched in confusion.

Guenivere finally unwrapped the blanket, revealing a tiny baby in nothing but a diaper. He shivered slightly, and so she placed the soft cloth around his shoulders instead. She held him in the crook of her arm, and the knights of the round table watched in awe as he adjusted himself a bit to be more comfortable.

"An féidir leat a rá hello, Merlin?" She asked, proudly speaking the small bit of Gaelic she had learned that week. And after a few moments of intensely scrutinizing the child, Gwaine smiled widely.

"Deas bualadh leat arís, Merlin." He said in flawless Gaelic. Gwen had forgotten he knew it. She beamed when she had finally translated what he had said.

"Sir Gwaine, would you like the honor of holding him first?" She asked. His smile grew until his face looked like it would split and he nodded mutely. She edged her way around the table and passed the baby to the loyal knight, who was a natural with him. He held him to his chest, supporting his head and his bum and gently covering his naked body with the blanket.

The child looked right up into his eyes with Merlin's eyes, and all of his doubts were completely gone. Yup, this was Merlin all right. He had an adult-like wisdom shining behind his orbs, and he kept staring up at this new handler owlishly.

Over the course of ten minutes, little Merlin was passed gently from Gwaine to Elyan, then to Leon, then Lancelot and then finally Percival. For such a large man, he was very gentle with the skinny child.

"Why is he wheezing, milady?" Percival asked when the child started having difficulty breathing, afraid he had done something wrong. Gwen smiled sadly at him.

"He was born with weak lungs, Percival. He will always have problems breathing. And since he died from punctured lungs in his last life, Gaius theorizes that it may permanently affect this Merlin. He says he'll probably cough up mucus, blood and scar tissue a few times a week, until he's at least in his twenties. He was also born with underdeveloped neck muscles, so he will most likely take longer to hold up his own head." They all looked saddened at this, but refused to let this experience be ruined.

"My lady, I am here. Apologies, I just had to stop by Gaius' chambers to see how his tonic was coming along." Hunith apologized as she entered, carrying a small green vial full of liquid. Carefully taking her son from Percival's arms, she held him close and poured the mystery liquid down his throat, ignoring his angered squawk.

"Hunith, is that his tonic? Gaius has it finished already?" Arthur asked. She nodded and smiled hopefully.

"Yes, it is. Gaius has worked on it all week, hardly doing anything else. I just hope it will work." As if on cue, the baby boy started gagging in her arms, his face turning blue. While the knights panicked, Hunith calmly put him the Quilt Position, hit his back, and soothed him after the gob of dead skin and blood was coughed up and he was left sobbing. The crystals on the chandelier began shaking and a few flew from their hooks, flying into the walls and shattering.

"Rialú duit féin!" Hunith cried, and continued to rock the baby until he calmed and his tears dried. She sighed, knowing this was for the better and at least the tonic prevented the process from being painful, but it still pained her to see her baby so terrified.

"… Well, he certainly does have magic." Gwaine half-joked. Then he turned thoughtful again. Turning to Hunith, he asked, "Why bring him back as a baby when he can't protect Arthur?" Hunith raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you think he can't protect Arthur just because he's young?"

"Well, yeah. Newborns aren't generally known for their protecting capabilities." In response, Hunith turned to the king.

"Do you trust me?" She asked. Arthur looked at her suspiciously.

"… yes…" He answered. She smiled sweetly before wrenching Gwaine's sword from its sheath and throwing it at Arthur as hard as she could.

Sensing his other half's fear and surprise, baby Merlin's eyes flashed a brilliant gold and suddenly time seemed to slow down a bit. The chair Arthur sat in moved backwards on its own, then off to the side, way out of the way of the projectile. Time sped up again, and the sword embedded itself in the wall Arthur had been blocking only moments before. With a smirk, Hunith turned to the dumbstruck knights.

"Never underestimate an all-powerful warlock." And with that, she left the room to put her son down for a nap.

Wide-eyed, Gwaine turned back to his brothers-in-arms and his King and Queen.

"Now there is a woman you never want to piss off." He said with a breathless laugh.

**Translations:**

**Can you say hello, Merlin?**

**It's nice to meet you again, Merlin.**

**Control yourself!**


	9. Chapter 9: Smile

**Hello there! Do you have any good suggestions for my upcoming chapters? I think they'll mostly consist of drabbles and such. If you think of something you'd like me to add, list it in the reviews! If I like your idea, or if it pertains to Merlin's current age in the story, then I'll write a chapter in your honor! Be sure to review!**

**Never Quite Lost: Smile**

"Merlin, look at me! Look at Gwen!" Guenivere cooed, bouncing Merlin a bit to get his attention. His interest was riveted on the nursery window, and the constant movement outside.

It had been five weeks since his birth, and since then he had made quite a bit of progress. His eyesight had sharpened, he was much more vocal and his movements were slowly becoming more controlled and less jerky. Gaius had encouraged the baby's caretakers to exercise his neck muscles as much as possible, to repeat his sounds back to him and try to stimulate his brain.

Sighing, Gwen realized when she was beaten, and then smiled when an idea came to mind. She whispered something to her husband, who was sitting next to her, and then handed the distracted child to him. With a loud laugh, Arthur stood from his chair and held the baby up to his face. Little Merlin could just barely support his own head, so Arthur had to be careful and help him most of the time.

"Do you want to fly, Merlin? Do you want to fly like the birds?" He asked playfully, placing a kiss on the infant's soft forehead. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, placed one forearm under the child's belly and another under his chin, and lifted him slowly into the air, moving him back and forth and carrying him around the room. He could see the tiny arms flapping in excitement, and the kicking of his long legs, but couldn't see his face.

He stopped short when he heard a strange airy gasping from the baby, frantically speeding back to a worried Gwen and having her help him turn the child over. 'He had his latest cough-up only yesterday', Arthur was thinking in worry, 'is there something else wrong with him? Are his lungs weaker than we thought?'

Carefully flipping the baby onto his back in the king's arms, the couple prepared themselves for the blue face, the bloody drool dripping from the gaping mouth, the wide eyes flashing with desperate magic. Arthur tensed his whole body, completely ready to run like a maniac to Gaius' chambers, and Gwen was using one heel to slip her cripplingly uncomfortable sandals off.

Instead, what they found was Merlin's chubby cheeks flushed bright red, his eyes wide open and the corners of his mouth pulled up in his first smile as the gasping continued. Queen Guenivere was the first one to notice the joyful glint in his eye.

"Arthur, he's _laughing_!" She said, laughing herself. Albeit a weak, almost-got-it-but-not-quite-there-yet laugh, devoid of any vocal sound and merely him sucking in air and expelling it noisily, it was still a laugh, and she cherished the sound. He kept flashing his charming gummy smile, and Arthur soon found himself joining his wife and surrogate son.

_Son_. He froze a bit at the thought, at realizing that he already thought of Merlin as an adopted son, and not a dead-and-reborn friend. He didn't know if it was a good thing or not, but decided to embrace it. This was the best he'd felt in so long, and opening old wounds by missing adult Merlin would do him no good.

"Good job, Merlin!" He exclaimed, holding Merlin up close and pointedly smiling, hoping the baby would copy him. At first, the tiny warlock just sat there, staring curiously at the king's mouth and the strange things it was doing. Then, taking the hint, he pulled the corners of his mouth up, opening it and smiling widely back to Arthur. The sight was so adorable, so _Merlin_, it made Arthur's heart feel like it was increasing in size, at least tenfold. When he began laughing again, the mirth returned to Merlin's eyes, and then it was a genuine smile once again.

He started his gasp-laughing again, and then there was a small brown bird levitating through the window, squawking in protest as it was made to float circles above the jovial baby's head. The royals had to stifle their laughter at the ridiculous sight. The baby stopped laughing, placing a fist in his mouth and completely forgetting the bird that had been so fascinating to him only moments before. Gwen stood, smiling good-naturedly, and grabbed the bird from its magical containment, taking it to the window and releasing it.

She returned to her seat, and her heart melted in her chest as she watched her beloved husband cuddling the infant close, and she thought of how wonderful a father he would be. Her thoughts were fleetingly drawn to a memory of a tiny, pale baby similar to Merlin, being placed in his forever-resting place. Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to futilely think of something, _anything _else.

Oh, Tobias, my little Toby. What would you have been like, had you lived? Would you be here, charming us with your first smiles as well? Would you have been quiet, like Merlin, or would you have outspoken and defiant, like your parents? Oh, my beautiful son, I had promised you so many times while I was carrying you that I would protect you. _Were you even alive then to hear my promises?_

She felt nausea bubbling up into her throat, and then she wanted nothing more than to run to her bed, flop on her face, and sleep the month away.

From her angle slightly behind Arthur, she could see little Merlin's face as it was squished a bit against her husband's shoulder, though he seemed not to care, drinking up the affection from his other half and seeming perfectly comfortable. She wished she could be like him, innocent enough not to be plagued by the grief of the world.

He suddenly twitched slightly, sensing her intense sadness, and his faraway look disappeared. Merlin lifted his head a millimeter- as high as he could go on his own- and turned it slightly until he was facing his surrogate mama and plopping his head down once more. He stared at her, creasing his eyebrows every few moments and scrutinizing her thoroughly, and she tried to put on a smile for him. No use exposing him to these horrid emotions just yet.

His forehead only creased further at her teary half-smile and he seemed completely confused as to why she wasn't feeling happy. Although, she doubted he would understand what she was feeling, he was so young.

After this thought went through her mind, the boy's face smoothed out, and he continued to stare at her almost as if saying, 'I know what you're going through, and you need to feel better.' As if he understood now.

Still staring at her, his clear blue eyes glowed golden and then she felt lighter, as all the dark thoughts were vanquished. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and her smile was now genuine. Knowing what he had done and being truly grateful for his kindness, she beamed at the infant, who was studying her intently for her reaction. She wanted to associate his selfless acts with happiness, hoping to start his moral development off early.

For a moment, she wondered if he knew what she was doing, or if he really was just a confused baby.

Then, with his face still squished between Arthur's neck and shoulder, his neck supported by the king's hand and his hands gripping the soft red fabric the man wore, Merlin smiled right back at her.

And, Gwen realized, even if she couldn't have her own flesh-and-blood babies, this was still so very, _very_ rewarding.

**Like I said, pretty drabble-y. Any ideas or prompts, feel free to leave them in the reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10: Babysit

**I am very pleased with the responses! Thanks to those who have reviewed and offered ideas! **

**Argos, it's been awhile since I've seen that particular episode, so while I research the whittled dragon and its story and such, here's a chapter with one of my own prompts. I promise you won't have to wait too long!**

**Clockworkraven: Thanks! Do you speak Gaelic? If so, am I doing it right? Your review was much appreciated!**

**I am using very loose math here, but Merlin is around three months old in this chapter, and six weeks have passed since the last chapter.**

**All facts about child development were found online, and the medical stuff involving his lungs is completely my imagination. Do not take any of these 'facts' as truth! Fiction, people!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Merlin… boo.**

**Never Quite Lost: Babysit**

"Gaius, how's he doing?" Asked Arthur. The physician finished his examination, put the rest of his equipment away, and plopped the child in his lap, a hand just barely supporting his neck.

"Sire, his lungs are slightly improved, his eyesight is phenomenal, his heart is strong, he's gained one pound, his hearing seems normal, and his muscles are getting stronger." He listed, and the king smiled.

"Good, good. So, any new tips this week?"

It had become a regular thing for one of Merlin's caregivers to take him for a check-up once a week, and each time the physician would give them some more tips to help in his growth and development.

"Yes, sire. He is twelve weeks old today, and that means he needs to work even harder on supporting his head. Lay him on his stomach sometimes and place something of interest above him, and that should encourage him to try.

"Keep reading to him and speak directly to him, using short, simple words and exaggerating your mouth's movements. This helps him learn to speak. Encourage any sounds he tries to make by returning them.

"Also, you may have noticed he has found sudden interest in his own hands." Arthur nodded, laughing slightly as he remembered the tiny fingers trying to pinch _everything_, and how Merlin would laugh for several minutes straight when he found a texture that pleased him.

"Well, keep presenting him with things that are safe for him to touch, and try to vary the textures. This promotes brain function and enhances his sense of touch.

"And last but not least; people. He needs to gain social skills by being around other people. Let a maid hold him for a few minutes, or have the knights watch him for a day, but he needs more exposure." The king nodded, assuring the aged man that he would.

A knock at the door revealed Callum, who scurried to the King's side and said, "Sire, the visiting nobles are waiting in the meeting hall." Arthur sighed, and waved the boy off.

"Yes, yes, I shall be there in a moment." Turning to look at the gurgling baby, he ran a hand down his face as he considered what to do.

"Gaius, could you watch him for an hour? You did say he needed to socialize with newer people, and I know you are dying for some time with him." He said as charmingly as he could, not wanting to beg.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, went mentally through his schedule for the day, then nodded.

"Alright, I can keep an eye on him until your meeting is finished." He complied. The blonde smiled widely and thanked him before leaving. Gaius turned Merlin around in his lap, his lips twitching upwards as he watched the oblivious baby pinching his little red shirt in his thumb and forefinger, then pulling on it and flapping his hands in excitement when it would be pulled from his weak grasp.

"Ah Merlin, you always were so easily entertained." He said fondly. The baby looked up at hearing his name. He responded with a 'goo.' Gaius, thankful that they were alone, returned the noise, and watched laughingly as the child wiggled his fingers in excitement and watched his mouth expectantly.

"Merlin, can you say 'Gai-us'?"

"Goah!"

"Gai-us?"

"Goah! Goeh!" Gaius chuckled and handed Merlin a scrap of clean fabric, watching as he grabbed it with his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled it in two separate ways, studying how it tightened the further he pulled. Then he dropped it and looked away, deciding he wanted something new to play.

Gaius, while he had the opportunity, placed Merlin on a mat on the floor on his stomach, hanging a colored string from the edge of a nearby table. So while the tiny warlock was busy trying to lift his head, he prepared his new-and-improved tonic in a small glass jar.

When he turned back around, Merlin was on his back, contentedly sucking on the piece of string and his eyes fading suspiciously back to blue. Cheater.

"Merlin!" The physician cried, making the baby look up at him innocently, batting his thick lashes. He scooped him up from the floor, put the string off to the side, and quickly made Merlin drink the tonic while he wasn't expecting it, so he wouldn't have the chance to make it go flying like last time. Gaius shuddered at the memory. His poor, irreplaceable tomes.

There was an angered gurgle as the fowl liquid was forced down Merlin's throat, but he was eventually forced to swallow. Man, this old guy was going to get it!

His fussiness was interrupted by the somewhat familiar but completely unwelcome pressure in his chest and neck, followed by the feeling of something blocking his airway. He tried to cry but found himself unable, as always, and all he could do was flail his arms in panic and break a few vases on their shelves across the room.

This particular tonic was of Gaius' own design, made to completely remove any pain from his cough-ups but simultaneously causing the cough-ups as well. He only administered this once a week to get rid of any new scar tissue and so prevent any sudden attacks later on in the week. Since the scar tissue was basically in every part of his lungs and several layers deep, he'd be coughing up the newest layers for several years, if not his whole life. It was unlike anything Gaius had ever experienced before. It was like any new lung tissue his body produced was scarred and half-dead.

Already expecting and prepared for the controlled attack, Gaius put him in the Quilt Position and hit his back for several minutes, bouncing him a little and rubbing his neck with his other hand. All the while he was murmuring words of comfort to the baby, switching to Gaelic when English obviously wasn't getting through.

"Tá sé ceart go leor ... beidh tú breá ... calma síos ..." He didn't know much of the language, but being a doctor meant he knew comfort words in almost every tongue.

When the tissue and blood and sputum had been coughed up and cleaned up, he placed his surrogate nephew on the cot and rubbed his belly until the tears and scared wails stopped and a fresh tomato was placed in his curious hands. Cooing happily, he poked and prodded the thing and laughed when a bit of juice flowed from a puncture. While he was effectively distracted, Merlin's caretaker made a bit of warm broth and put it in a bottle with a cloth tied around the mouth to filter the flow. He traded the red fruit for the bottle.

Half an hour later, a bathed, fed, and exhausted Merlin was sleeping soundly on Gaius' cot, dressed in a thick nightshirt and wrapped in blankets.

Gaius sat by his side, stroking his thick, curly black hair lovingly and tracing his face with a feather-like touch. He admired how his raven locks brought out the perfect porcelain of his flawless round face; how the warm blankets made him look that much smaller; he internally laughed quite drily at how the sleepwear was the perfect size for infants his age, yet Merlin still was completely lost in their depths. He watched, reassured by the steady rise and fall of his tiny chest.

A gentle rapping sounded from the door. Seconds later, Callum entered the chambers and shuffled his feet nervously, hands clasped behind his back. The older man eyed the ginger servant warily, knowing this couldn't be good. It seemed like the poor manservant was always the bearer of bad news.

"Sir, I was ordered by His Highness to inform you that his meeting will be lasting an additional two hours than originally planned, and then he will be attending the feast with the nobles. He requires your services in watching his charge until sundown." A Merlin-esque voice in his head kept repeating 'called it.' And before Gaius could dismiss the boy, he was already gone, and now a small brunette maidservant was rushing in.

"Gaius! Gaius, there's been a fire!" She exclaimed despite the physician's gestures to be quiet, waking the baby. He cried a bit until Gaius picked him up and rocked him.

"Where?" He asked over the infant's shoulder.

"In the lower town."

"How many injured?" The girl looked thoughtful for a moment.

"At least seven; four children and three adults. The fires were put out, but there are still those needing medical assistance." Gaius frowned, concerned. Children were even more vulnerable than adults, and burns were quite debilitating injuries to say the least.

His thoughts shifted to Merlin, who was fussing a bit on his shoulder. What to do with him? He got an idea as he examined the maid before him. She was young, only about eleven, but looked intelligent and caring. Maybe-

"Oh, uh, my name's Julia. I'm to be your assistant and help with the victims. I, ah, heard about what happened with your last one…" She shifted awkwardly, eyeing the infant. Oh well, if she had to help him instead of watching Merlin, Gaius really couldn't complain. He'd need her help.

He nodded absently, using one arm to gather his supplies. Julia noticed his multitasking and wordlessly took the child from him, holding Merlin to her chest and rocking him, effectively silencing him. She smiled and kissed his fuzzy forehead.

"He likes you." Gaius noted good-naturedly as he now used both hands to pack his supplies. The little girl smiled hopefully, hugging Merlin a little closer.

"Really? How can you tell?" The old man had to smile at her still-so-childish innocence. She seemed awfully young to be working as it was.

"Well, just look at him. He doesn't usually behave for strangers." Julia looked down into the infant's face, smiling excitedly when he smiled back. Gaius could tell they had just made her day.

"Hello Merlin. I've 'eard lots about you! I'm Julia." She crooned, taking his chubby fist in her hand and shaking it jokingly.

"Ju! Ju!" Merlin cooed happily, and Julia's smile almost split her face.

As much as Gaius hated ruining their moment, and as much as he didn't want to tear this girl- still a child- from this happiness and dump her in a room full of horrifically injured people, he knew he had no choice.

"Julia, we must be going." He said, and she nodded, running to his side with Merlin in her arms. She dutifully followed behind him as they exited the castle and trekked to the lower town where smoke was reaching towards the sky and people were running about, each doing something or other to assist.

They walked up to a group of people who were lying in the soft hay of one of the stable stalls. There were eight of them total, five children, one teenaged girl, one woman, and one man. The youngest child, a girl of at most five summers, had burns trailing down her right arm; the oldest child, a girl of at most twelve summers, had a burn from the left side of her forehead all the way down to her right clavicle and a bloody gash on her right shin. A little blonde boy, maybe six years, had a bruise on his naked chest; his identical twin had a similarly large bruise on his right thigh. The last child, a nine-year-old brunette boy, had burns completely covering his left foot. The children all lay on the largest pile of accumulated hay, each sprawled and each adorning similar tear tracks through layers of soot.

The teenager, a pretty brunette of around sixteen years, had scorched skin all over her back that she apparently got from protecting her little siblings and a nasty bump on her skull. She lay at the bottom of the pile, gazing up at her saviors through heavy lids.

The mother and father were both mostly uninjured, though the mother had a burned eyelid that kept that eye shut. They were both coughing heavily.

Gaius winced at the sight of the family's suffering, wondering if he should let Julia continue to be exposed to this.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the determination in her eyes told him that she was going to help in any possible way she could. Sighing, he relented.

"Julia, go find Sir Gwaine and give Merlin to him." He ordered, and she nodded solemnly. She ran out of the stables, the babe over her shoulder watching her skirts swoosh in fascination, and tracked down the knight, handing the child over to him only when she was absolutely sure he was trustworthy.

"Gaius needs you to watch him." She said, her brown eyes scrutinizing him thoroughly. Gwaine nodded. "You better take good care of him." She half-threatened before running back to her master's side.

~oOo~

"Julia, I need more water." She handed him another vial of the cool liquid. He nodded thanks and poured it over the child's burns, letting her squeeze his hand until the renewed burning sensation died down.

"Alright Sari, I just need to add some ointment to prevent infection and then you can join your parents in the courtyard." Sari nodded wearily, and sighed in relief when the oily medicine didn't hurt like she had thought it would. The kind man finished wrapping a bandage around her injured arm, gave her a list of things to do to care for her wound, and had Julia escort the girl to her parents.

When Julia returned, he had already started treating Thomas, the twin with a bruised abdomen.

Gaius was surprised at how strong Julia was. She did every task he asked of her, no matter what doubts she may harbor, no matter what the task was. She kept a calm face when dealing with the horrific injuries, and reassured the victims constantly about Gaius' skill.

"Gaius?" She asked hesitantly after a few moments of thoughtful consideration.

"Yes, child?" He asked, not looking up from his examination. He had to make sure these ribs weren't cracked!

"… Do… Do you think Sir Gwaine is taking good care of Merlin?" He smiled to himself at how protective she had become of the babe. She hardly knew him two hours and already she was like his big sister. He threw a reassuring smile to her.

"Yes, Julia, Sir Gwaine is nothing if not loyal. He won't let anything happen to Merlin, I swear." Her spirits lifted a little, and she smiled.

"You're right! I mean, he's a knight of Camelot for goodness' sake!" she exclaimed. She straightened her back and held her head confidently. "I'm sure he's taking the absolute best care of him!"

~oOo~

"Merlin! Put us down!"

"Whose bright- umph- idea was this, anyway?"

"Gwaine."

"Oi! I was just 'oldin 'im! How was I supposed to know he'd wake up and magically pin us to the _freaking wall_?"

"Oh, you stop your laughing, you little squirt! Get us down!"

"Hey Elyan, maybe he's doing this because he thinks we're strangers? You know baby Merlin doesn't bode well to strangers."

"That may be the case, but how does that help?"

"… No idea…"

~oOo~

"Okay Timothy, I need you to hold still and breathe deeply. Can you do that?" Gaius asked patiently. He had a bandage in hand and a bottle of cleansing potion, but the child panicked at the sight of it.

"I-I can't!" He cried, breathing erratically. His eyes were bugging in his sockets and his face was pale underneath the poorly-washed-off soot. Julia knelt next to the twin and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Timmy, it's alright. Just copy me." She said calmly and began breathing deeply. He nodded shakily and kept his gaze firmly on her, breathing in time with her breaths and not even noticing it was over until the bandages had been tied off.

"Alright, you're done, lad."

"Really?" He asked in astonishment. Gaius nodded.

"Just keep it clean, rinse it once a day, and change the bandages twice a week." The boy sprang up lightly, avoiding using his gimp leg, and wrapped his arms around Julia's neck, then Gaius' in a tight hug.

"Thank you, Sir Doctor!" He mumbled into the man's neck. Gaius smiled and tears lay unshed behind his eyes. He hugged the boy back, then playfully swatted his behind so he would go join his brother in the courtyard.

"You know…" Julia said, grinning, "I think I just might become a physician one day, just like you."

~oOo~

"Gah! He's doing it again!"

"Cover, man, cover!"

"Why the devil does he keep doing that?"

"Oh, don't you even think about laughing, ya overgrown piglet!"

"What do we do?"

"I don't know- uh, Lancelot, you're the baby expert, do something!"

"Baby expert? How does knowing how to hold a baby make me an expert?"

"JUST DO SOMETHING!"

"Like what? Don't you think if I could do something to stop this, I would have done so already? Christ, it's not like you're the only ones he's peeing on."

~oOo~

"Julia, could you cleanse the wound, please?" Gaius asked, and the girl nodded. Pushing her hair back and tying it with a kerchief, she wet a cloth and gingerly wiped it over the older girl's face. Tylea cringed some, but bravely stayed where she was and made no complaint. The Physician's Assistant then put some soothing cream on top before putting medical adhesive cloth on the worst burns on her face. Gaius was busy dressing the cut on the girl's shin.

"So, what do you like to do, Tylea?" Julia asked to distract the girl as she worked. Tylea turned bright green eyes on her and smiled a fraction.

"I like to sew. I make all kinds of scarves and coats and socks from cheap string I can buy at the market. My mama says I have true talent. But now the f-fire bur-burned all of my w-work a-"

"No, Tylea, no! Don't think that way, please!" the younger girl implored, pulling Tylea into a hug. "I am sure we will find some way to get you all through this. And when you do, I am personally going to help you buy all the string we can possibly buy and sew a brand new set of clothing. I promise."

Tylea smiled, placed a grateful kiss on the girl's head, and- with Gaius' permission- went to join her family.

~oOo~

"What the deuce is this horse crap?"

"It's called baby food, Gwaine."

"Well, it's disgusting. I am not feeding this to Merlin."

"Then what do you suggest we do, oh wise knight?"

"Uhm… Lancelot, you're the baby expert. You feed him something."

"Gwaine, I am not a baby expert."

"Woah, calm down, calm down. Erm… Merlin, what do you want to eat?"

"Goah!"

"Goah, what does that sound like…"

"Gwaine, you can't be serious."

"… Oh! It sounds like 'gourd'!" He wants a gourd!"

"… you never cease to amaze me."

"Shut up, Elyan. Lancelot, go mash up that gourd."

"Oh good Lord, have mercy."

~oOo~

"Daniel, what's your favorite food?" Julia inquired. She sat right next to him, purposely blocking his view of his burnt foot, and what was being done to it. He winced every once and a while and would sometimes shout out, but not watching the process sure seemed to lessen his pain.

"I-AH!- I like really anything mum makes me." He said. She smiled and nodded encouragingly. "L-like when she makes a whole cooked chicken for our birthdays, and when she makes her super-special-recipe broth on cold winter nights. It warms you right up!"

"Woah, now you're making me hungry!" She laughed. He blushed slightly and apologized.

"Alright Daniel, keep this cast on for two weeks. Avoid strenuous exercise." Gaius listed, then sent the boy off without anything else. He was getting tired, and the sun was low in the sky.

"Gaius, how do you think Merlin and the knights are doing?" Julia asked, trying to hide her anxiety and failing. He smiled fondly at her sisterly love and overprotectiveness. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Julia, I am sure they are absolutely fine."

~oOo~

"No! Bad Merlin!"

"He's not a dog, Gwaine!"

"Well 'scuse me if he's actin' like one!"

"Calm yourselves, both of you. Watch this."

"… See, I knew it, he's the baby expert."

"Gwaine, say it one more time and I'll run you through in training tomorrow."

"Sorry, Sir Threatsalot."

"Freah!"

"You see? He's copying us! Start behaving more like a grown man, Gwaine."

"But why doesn't Merlin have to?"

"That's hilarious, Gwaine. So hilarious I forgot to laugh."

"I try."

"Treah!"

"Again?"

"Geh!"

"Merlin, knock it off!"

"Nah! Ah!"

"Stop repeating me!"

"Meah!"

"No! Bad Merlin!"

"He's not a dog, Gwaine!"

~oOo~

"Katrina, just one more stitch, then it's done." Gaius comforted the whimpering teen as he pulled the needle through her scalp once more. Carefully cutting and tying the string, he laid her head on the pile of hay and asked Julia to open _only the back_ of the girl's tattered dress, since Katrina was too lethargic to do so herself.

As they both worked to clean and disinfect the various burns all over the girl's back, both physician and his assistant were very amazed at what she had done. She had shielded all of her siblings from the brunt of the falling glass and wood.

"What you did was very brave, Katri." Julia said truthfully. Katrina blinked tiredly, nodding her head slightly.

"sswha 'nywhah 'd do." She slurred. She didn't have a concussion, but she was so tired and drained.

"You're right, Katrina. Good people would do it. But the fact that you endured so much and without thinking about the pain for yourself is brave. You are so kind, and you care so much. You deserve a good week of rest." She nodded and with their combined efforts, she was carried to the guest chambers where the family would temporarily be staying.

~oOo~

"Elyan, his head doesn't go there!"

"Well excuse me! These things are like labyrinths! The arm holes and the head hole look so much alike!"

"Come on, it's not _that_ difficult!"

"You do it then!

"Alright, I will. Watch an learn as I… easily… What is this sorcery?"

"Not so easy now, is it?"

"Shut up and help me get these rags on him before he pins us to the wall again."

~oOo~

That night, Julia practically ran to Merlin's nursery, anxious to see her adopted baby brother alive and well. It's not that she didn't trust the knights, it's just… no, she really didn't trust the knights all that much. They were trained for combat, not diaper-changing.

She burst through the doors, finding Merlin asleep in his cot and the knights sitting talking quietly at the table nearby. They made a shushing gesture to her, and she tiptoed over to the crib and peeked over the edge.

He was so peaceful when he was sleeping, licking his lips and breathing so deeply. She had heard rumors that he had weak lungs, but so far she had yet to experience any of his so-called 'attacks'. She hoped he'd have a happy childhood to make up for the one she never had. She made a silent oath to protect him like the little brother she'd always wanted, and then sneakily left the room to go get ready for bed.

When Hunith returned from her kitchen duties that day, she found her son deeply asleep, the knights sleeping in their chairs around the nursery table, and not a thing out of place otherwise. At first, anyway.

And if she did somehow want to know why Merlin's nightie was on backwards and inside-out, why there was some sort of melon burning in the fireplace, why there was cream of garlic filling the boy's socks, why the knights smelled so fowl, why Gwaine was missing a patch of hair, or why Elyan had lipstick scribbles on his forehead and nose, well, she never said anything.

**Anyways, I'm looking into Argos' prompt, but be sure to leave me some for later usage! Updates will be slower now, just FYI. Thanks! R&amp;R!**

**Translations:**

**It's alright... you'll be fine... calm down...**


	11. Chapter 11: Papa

**I'm baaack! Miss me? I know it's only been, what, a day? But still, it's great to be alive! :)**

**Argos: Here's the chapter you requested! I remember the episode more clearly now, and I just needed to see a picture of the dragon for this. Thanks again for your support and involvement!**

**Opal: I honestly didn't think about that! Does that make me a bad author? ;) No, they're not going to do that because I want Merlin to have an obstacle in this life, one he didn't have in his first one. I hope you enjoy regardless! **

**Merlin is 4 months old in this chapter, and around four weeks have passed.**

**Never Quite Lost: Papa**

Sighing, Hunith ran a hand over her skirt again, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Her blue dress had been made especially for her, tailored and then colored the shade of Merlin's eyes. In her white apron's pocket was a small wooden lump wrapped delicately in an old neckerchief.

Pulling it out for the hundredth time that day, she carefully removed the wrapping and traced an admiring finger down the miniature dragon's smooth back, tears blurring her vision.

Balinor, Merlin's father and previously the last Dragonlord, had carved this little wooden dragon. Though she never got to see him again before he died, Merlin had shown this little toy to her with an excited glint in his eyes. It had stayed in his room in Camelot for the remaining three years before his death, and then Gaius had given it to her when she arrived.

"Maybe I shouldn't do this… he can't possibly be old enough yet!" She argued with herself. She was having several doubts about whether or not she should return it to him yet.

"No, he needs this. He may not grow up with his father, but he should at least have something of his." She reminded herself resolutely, pushing open the nursery door before she could stop again.

Gwen, Arthur, and Julia were inside, all forming a circle on the floor with little baby Merlin in the center. He could essentially hold up his own head now, but every once and a while he'd drop his head in a bout of clumsiness. He sat on his little bum, a toy knight in hand and a toy horse in mouth.

"Hello, Miss Hunith!" Julia chirped in welcome. She jumped up from her spot, ran over to Hunith, and grabbed her free hand, pulling her eagerly over to join them.

"Miss Hunith! Miss Hunith! Guess what Merlie can do?" Hunith laughed at the hilarious nickname her son had been given. She knew Merlin would hate that name later on, but for now she'd let sleeping dogs lie.

"What?" She asked in genuine curiosity. Each day brought something new with Merlin.

"Merlin, like we practiced!" Julia instructed the infant who looked at her and cooed over a mouthful of noble steed. While the king and queen watched with matching smiles, and Hunith with a raised brow, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the toy knight mounted his slobbery horse, and then raised his little sword and slayed the toy griffin.

Hunith's heart broke a little at the thought that he was learning to hate magical creatures. He made the little knight stab some warped, nightmarish unicorn, then attack a troll.

"We taught him how to play figurines, King Arthur and I!" Julia exclaimed, oblivious to the mother's distress. Hunith sighed in relief.

Merlin wasn't consciously making the knight kill the creatures; he was repeating what they had shown him, going through the motions. King Arthur probably didn't even realize what he had been teaching.

"That's very nice, Julia. I have something I wanted to give to Merlin, and although I was going to ask you all to leave, I now think it best if you are here to learn the significance of this and so you may continue to teach him when I am no longer able." They all leaned in closely, furrowing their brows. She sat in the empty space cleared for her, and turned her son to face her direction.

"Merlin, I have something for you." She cooed with a sad smile, pulling the wooden beast from her pocket and placing it in his hands. Merlin giggled- a real, vocal giggle- and put both hands on it, bouncing it up and down.

"What is that, Hunith?" Gwen asked.

"It is something that Merlin's father made for him before he died." They all grew somber.

"Merlie, I'm so sorry you don't have your papa. But don't worry, _I'll_ look after you!" Julia proclaimed earnestly, giving the confused child a bear hug. When she pulled away, he brought the toy dragon up to his face and stared at it intently.

"Hey Merlie, let's play knights and dragons!" Julia cried, making the king and queen laugh quietly. She was so cute!

When the infant just looked confused, King Arthur reached over and took the dragon gently, then picked up a knight and made them 'fight', showing Merlin how to do it.

He handed them back, asking if Merlin could do it too.

They remained oblivious to Hunith's pained expression.

Merlin took the figures from his adopted father and looked at them curiously, starting to get the idea.

"Come on Merlin, you can do it!"

"No." Hunith finally said, not wanting this seemingly innocent play to corrupt Merlin's future views. Everyone looked at her, stunned, and all was silent as the baby struggled to understand what was happening.

"Merlin, play the way _you _remember." She said slowly, enunciating every word. He watched her mouth as she spoke, slowly dropping the two toys to the floor. He looked very unsure, and was probably thinking of crying.

"Merlin, show them. Taispeáin iad agus cuimhneamh orthu." And then they all waited, watching the babe with rapt attention.

Finally, he smiled, looked to the toys, and said, "pa." with such conviction and volume, they knew it truly meant something to him. His eyes flashed golden, and the tiny dragon and the tiny knight both came to life. The knight walked up to the wooden dragon and climbed right up on his back, and then they took flight, circling above their heads. The dragon breathed out sparks of colorful light, and the knight's sword glowed like flame.

They all watched, awestruck. The sight was truly enchanting, the golden lights flickering around the room, lighting up their faces and warming their hearts. Merlin flapped his tiny hands in excitement, an expression of true happiness on his innocent face.

"Pa!" He cried. "Pa! Pa!" Hunith smiled as she realized what he was saying.

"Pah-pah! Ka-grah! Mah-lah!" He cried as his excitement grew. He was kicking his legs now, as well.

"Merlin, what are you saying?" Arthur inquired. To him, it just sounded like random syllables.

"Arthur, he's saying 'Papa'." Hunith translated. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of Balinor, and how wonderful it would be if he could be here now.

"Kah-grah! Ki-gruh!" Merlin cried again, his head tilted all the way back as he watched the dragon and his faithful rider. Arthur looked to Hunith pointedly, waiting for another translation.

"Kilgarrah."

"Pa! Ka-grah! Mra-we!"

"Merlin and Kilgarrah and papa. The Great Dragon and his Dragonlords." She said, happy tears running from her eyes.

"Wa's that mean?" Asked Julia. Hunith beamed at the girl.

"It means he remembers."

**I know this probably wasn't my best chapter, but did you enjoy it anyways? **

**I just want to clarify something as well: Merlin remembers bits and pieces of his past life, but that doesn't mean he'll remember everything. This is his new chance at life.**

**I wanted to dedicate this chapter to my little brother, Gabie. He's just a child himself, but maybe he'll see this when he's older.**

**Gabie is partially autistic, and so that's why I keep making Merlin flap his hands and kick his legs when he's excited, just like my brother. I thought I'd make him like Gabie just a bit. Now, Merlin isn't at all autistic, but I just think the little quirks are adorable.**

**Gabie, you are so smart and loving and kind, you're a computer genius and a professional snugglebug. I love you lots, bro! I hope as you grow- like little Merlin- you'll always keep your Dragon Heart, your Knight's Intelligence, and your Magical Personality! -Sissy**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and favorites, and I hope you keep 'em coming!**

**-Violet**

**Translations:**

**Show them and remember**


	12. Chapter 12: Finger Food

**AN: Hey guys, how am I doing so far? Got any more prompts for me? Be sure to review!**

**So sorry I've taken so much longer than usual! My muse was just… **_**not **_**feeling very generous.**

**Merlin is about 7 months old in this one; I wanted to fast forward a bit.**

**In response to an earlier review commenting on how smart Merlin was for his age: Yes, he is! While he may be lacking physically, he's way ahead in mental strength! Don't be surprised if he acts a little older than he really is! **

**Sorry, this one's a shortie.**

**Never Quite Lost: Finger Food**

"Merlin, so help me, eat your dinner or I'll make you!" Arthur exclaimed, not caring if the baby couldn't quite understand him. Sighing in defeat, he dropped the feeding spoon and sat back in his chair. Merlin laughed and continued magically flinging his mashed apples at the cooks.

Helga, the head cook, shook her head in exasperation as yet another spoonful of glop hit the wall inches from her face. 'I swear,' she inwardly groaned, 'if that boy wasn't so bloody _charming_, I'd have his tiny behind whipped.'

"Your majesty, I can help." Hunith said, emerging from the kitchens and hanging up her apron. Grabbing a softer fruit, a banana, she took a knife and cut the yellow fruit into very thin slices and set them on a plate, on the floor in front of her son. She crouched down to his level, encouragingly smiling and drawing his attention to the food.

"Merlin, look what mama's got for you!" She cried, patting the ground near the plate. Merlin gracelessly lowered his head to see what she was doing, then reached out a pincer-like grasp and picked up a slice. When mama nodded the affirmative, he smiled a heart-melting grin and stuck it in his mouth. He had just grown in two more teeth, and now was his chance to test them out.

The king watched in fascination and humor as the raven-haired baby never quite closed his lips, chewing with his mouth wide open. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his little tongue constantly swept over the new food, scoping its texture. Finally, he decided that he _liked_ the banana, and flapped his arms up and down after he finally swallowed.

"Moeh! Moah!" He cried, using a word he heard repeated often. He had learned from Ju-Ju that this word meant receiving more of whatever it was that he wanted. Hunith smiled and patted the plate again.

Merlin was thrilled at being able to feed himself. He was never allowed to put anything in his own mouth, and it provided a new challenge; it involved lots of hand-eye-mouth coordination.

As he stuffed even more of his favorite fruit into his mouth, he clapped his hands and kicked his legs, and the chairs around the great banquet hall started scraping back and forth across the stone floor.

Helga, glad the flinging tirade was at least finished, graciously brought out a tray of carefully-cut chicken, pear, and cheese, along with a cup of water. The food was literally devoured in less than ten minutes.

"_Mer_lin, you piglet!" Arthur teased, swooping down and taking the child into his arms. He spun him around and threw him up in the air, catching him and then kissing under his chin, where he knew he was ticklish. The boy laughed loudly, flashing a giant smile at his father-figure. Hunith watched on with a look of pure bliss on her face.

When the play had settled down, with Merlin resting in the crook of Arthur's arm, the boy decided he wanted to impress the man.

"Pifet! Pigwet!" He cried, getting more excited with each try as they brought him closer to the word he had heard. "PIGLET!" He shouted, his eyes glinting with pride and excitement. Arthur's stunned look lasted only a moment before he recovered and beamed at the lad.

"Good, Merlin! Good! Can you say it again?" The boy watched his mouth very carefully, the intensity in his gaze making him look hilarious.

Finally, he opened his mouth once more. "'Gin! Gen! Ahgin!" He tried, but he grew frustrated as he couldn't repeat his papa.

"Merlin, try saying 'arís'. It's much easier." Hunith intervened, having noticed how precariously the king's wine-filled goblet was perched on the table. She repeated the word a few more times, until that determined glint was behind his eyes yet again.

"Rís! Arís!" He exclaimed happily. She smiled and nodded to her son.

"There you go, good job!"

"What'd Merlie do?" Julia asked happily as she skipped into the room. Gaius had given her a break from her duties, and she had heard that her little brother was in the great hall.

"Ju Ju! JU JU!" Merlin cried, almost screaming for no reason other than pure excitement. She beamed at him and ran to his side, plopping down on the ground next to him.

"Merlie, Merlie, gues what? Uncle Gaius says he'll teach me to be a ph-physician!" She exclaimed, her dreams coming true. Ever since the destruction of her village and the constant illness that had plagued- and eventually killed- her family, she swore she would learn how to help others and prevent people from dying the same horrible death.

While usually the reminder would upset her, whenever she was around Merlin, she was alright. She didn't know if he was magicking her, or if he just represented her new family. Although it was unofficial (for the time being, Arthur had been thinking deviously), she had basically adopted herself into their little misfit family. She acted as Gwen's maidservant only when necessary; most of her time with the queen was spent discussing various topics, such as Gwen's story of servant to queen- Julia's favorite story. Sometimes they hugged, and Gwen would sometimes do the girl's hair for her, and Julia would make her little trinkets and other odds and ends that her own mother had once taught her. There was clearly a mother-daughter relationship budding.

Time spent with Arthur, while less often, was no less familial. Arthur had the pleasure of explaining what it meant to be royalty, the duty to his people, and the amazing feeling of helping his citizens. He took pleasure in explaining this to her because it was nice that someone was curious enough to actually ask about it. Most others just assumed or kept their mouth shut. Julia would give him 'writing prompts' for his upcoming speeches, and she would chatter on and on about little baby Merlin's accomplishments while the king just smiled and listened.

Julia was almost always found- when not with the others- with Gaius, desperately asking hundreds of unique questions about such and such, this and that, and drinking in all he had to say with undying thirst. Sometimes, when the work got to be too tiring for her to walk home at night, Gaius would let her use Merlin's old chambers, tucking her in and giving her a sleeping tonic.

Her strongest relationship was with Merlin, though. She constantly played with him, taught him, talked with him, and did other things like dressing him and feeding him when the others were too busy. Sometimes the king would pass by the nursery and overhear Julia talking endlessly to someone. He would then peek in and find, as always, the eleven-year-old sitting on her knees, pulling a shirt over the younger child's head or playing toy knights with him as she explained her day thoroughly to little Merlin. He would listen to her the whole time, seeming actually interested in whatever came from her mouth.

"Merlin, isn't that great?" She asked, taking his newfound vocabulary in stride. She had known about his talking for a while now; in fact, she had been the first one he'd learned his words from.

"Gweah!" He repeated happily, eager to show his big sister how smart he was. She grinned, then stood to retrieve an apple from the table before plopping on her dirty skirt right back on the floor. She took a giant bite, giggling when a spray of apple juice hit Merlin in the forehead. He jumped, and the look of deep-thought confusion on his face was enough to make her struggle to keep from choking. The boy reached a long-fingered hand up to his head and wiped the juice off, before sticking his finger in his mouth and tasting. His eyes lit up.

"Miss Hunith, can Merlie have a bita' my apple?" Julia asked. Hunith nodded, knowing he wouldn't even be able to get that much off anyway, so there was a very slim chance of choking.

The girl pressed the apple to the child's closed mouth, waiting until he took the hint and opened it again. He took a giant (not that big) bite with his tiny front teeth, then chewed the fleck of fruit with his mouth open and his eyes furrowed in concentration.

Then, he started kicking his legs wildly, his eyes wide open and his mouth pulled in the biggest smile ever. His breathing became erratic and a bit wheezy in his excitement, and suddenly the chandelier was tilting back and forth ominously.

"Merlin! Merlin, calm down." Hunith warned, taking the apple away and replacing it with a piece of cut chicken. He frowned comically before dejectedly stuffing his face.

They all unanimously decided that they would they would save the apples for when he was older, when he could handle it.

**Okay, I know this is becoming one of those "adopt every OC into the family" stories, but I think Merlie needs a big sibling, and since I had kinda killed off any chances of royal big siblings before I realized my mistake, I couldn't figure out what else to do. So, enter Julia.**

**Sorry if you think it's incredibly corny!**


	13. Chapter 13: Big Brother Gwaine

**A/N: Where are ya'll? It's been sooooo long since I've heard from my favorite readers! Feedback is the only payment I get for writing this, and I really want to know how well I'm doing!**

**I'm sorry for waiting this long to update! Life loves to get in my way!**

**Merlin is one year old! Yay!**

**Never Quite Lost: Big Brother Gwaine**

"Merlin! Get back here, ya little Doofus!" Gwaine called, running after the crawling child. Gwen was following two steps behind him.

The knight had just happened to be strolling along, minding his own business, when he had almost run headfirst into a flustered Queen Guenivere. She had explained how she had been playing games with him and he decided to run away. It had been cute at first, but after he had started crawling the length of the castle, she realized the mistake.

Little booger was most likely magically increasing his speed. Otherwise, Gwaine was sure he would have caught him by now. It was just unnatural.

Merlin, dressed in a new form of baby clothes- pajamas that covered from the bottom of your feet to your neck- giggled with glee and pressed forward. He crawled at a dizzying pace, towards the closest stairway.

"MERLIN!" Gwen exclaimed, fear clouding her features as she thought of every possible outcome.

Time seemed to slow as the toddler reached the top of the stairs and started down. His little hand slipped, and he was pitching forwards to the hard, distant ground. He cried out in pain as his back hit the first in a series of stairs. His eyes were wide and his breathing hitched.

Gwaine raced to the stairwell around the corner, preparing himself for what exactly he might see.

Merlin lay there, at the bottom, with his eyes closed and watery. When he opened them, the golden shade faded back to blue, and tears raced down his chubby cheeks. He had a little arm trying to reach for his aching back, but other than that, he looked virtually unharmed.

Without hesitating, the knight rushed down the steps and scooped the light child into his arms, holding him to his shoulder as the boy let out a scared sob. Drool fell from the babe's mouth and soaked his chainmail. He placed a hand under the boy's head and rocked him slowly, kissing his unruly curls.

"Merlin, shh, you're alright. Tá tú ceart go leor." Merlin sobbed some more, and while Gwaine comforted him, Gwen gently searched him for injury. He choked up when she touched his lower back, and the two adults shared a look. With a nod, Gwaine marched his charge down to Gaius' chambers. He hoped the boy hadn't broken anything.

After helping the aged physician remove the top of Merlin's pajamas, the man ran his hand through the raven hair in a calming gesture, successfully distracting him as Gaius checked the giant purple bruise forming. He assured Gwaine that Merlin was fine; he was lucky his magic had reacted, and that he just needed more calm activities to do while he recovered emotionally.

"How is he? We didn't let him trigger another cough-up, did we?" Gwen asked worriedly, rushing forward. She had gone to grab Merlin's new blanket to comfort the lad. Gwaine nodded reassuringly, leading the way to Merlin's nursery. He stopped when there was a mumble into his shoulder.

"What, Merlin? Speak up." He said gently, bouncing him. Merlin sat his head up, fixing his friend with a red-rimmed gaze. He looked so pitiful, and his eyes still had a glint of fear in them.

"Hu'ts. Ba'." He repeated, searching his limited vocabulary for the right words. He reached for Gwen's hand, and then pushed all of her fingers down, except for her pointer finger. Grabbing her wrist, he steered her fingertip until it touched the spot in question. "Hu's. Ni'… n'mhn'ch." He said, trying to pronounce the same word in Irish in case Gwaine for some reason didn't understand.

The man smiled and kissed the boy's forehead.

"I know it hurts, Merlin. You took a nasty spill back there. But you'll be okay. Right, Gwen?" The queen nodded with a confident smile. Merlin's lips twitched a bit, and he leaned in Gwaine's arms to reach her. The knight stepped closer, and while Gwaine held him upright in his arms, Merlin reached out and gave Guenivere a little hug. She felt her heart melt in her chest.

When the toddler pulled away, she straightened her dress and reluctantly explained that she had three meetings to attend to. Gwaine was placed in charge of Merlin's care until Hunith was free in a few hours. Gwaine reassured her that they would be fine, and with one last farewell and one last goodbye kiss on the warlock's forehead, she left the two boys to their activities.

"So Merlin, what do you want to do?" Gwaine asked excitedly as he resumed the short walk to the nursery. The child looked rather thoughtful for a moment.

"See mama!" He decided and clapped happily. His caretaker shook his head.

"Sorry lad, mama's busy. What _else _do you want to do?"

"Tan we ma'e some cwaffs? Bea's!" He exclaimed. The knight considered this. 'It's rather cold, and Merlin's not too tough. But, he does want to make crafts, and we have to buy some beads. Maybe we could… aw, who am I kidding? I can't say no to that little face! Besides, I'm sure Hunith won't mind him being out in the cold for a few measly minutes if it means that her son can be artistic.'

"Alright, we'll do crafts. But first, we have to get some supplies from the market, okay?" Merlin kicked his legs, thrilled with the prospect of going **outside**. His mother hardly let him go out now that winter approached, and he barely remembered what it was like. He desperately wanted to go, all his pain momentarily forgotten.

"Otay! Otay! Go! Go!" He cried loudly. Gwaine smiled and proceeded to Merlin's nursery, deciding on putting two extra layers of clothing over his pajamas for warmth. He put several coins in his pocket, grabbed a swaddled Merlin, and sneakily headed for the bustling sea that was the marketplace. He kept the boy firmly held against his chest, and made sure that his sword was in its sheath.

If he had had any doubts before about taking Merlin outside, they had completely dissipated by now. The look of absolute wonder and excitement on the round face warmed him from inside out. He chuckled when the boy started investigating everything around him with his eyes.

Everything was so much bigger than him! The clouds, and the people! The buildings, the animals, it was all so exciting!

They carefully made their way to a nearby stall that had many glass beads on display. A young woman of about twenty years stood behind the display, with long, blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was very pretty.

Gwaine awkwardly put Merlin on his boot-clad feet and distractedly gave him a coin and told him to pick some beads out while he started a conversation with the young lady. He placed the boy's hands on the edge of the cart so that he could stand by himself. Merlin smiled innocently and did as told, his wide eyes scanning over every single bead with an intense gaze. Nothing but perfection would please his needs.

As the knight and the bead-maker (her name, he learned, was Sarah) laughed and talked for a few minutes, the little boy finally chose twelve green beads, four golden beads, sixteen blue beads, and three red beads. He tugged on Gwaine's sleeve to get his attention, but the knight was too busy laughing at something Sarah had said. By the affectionate glaze in her eyes, the girl was most definitely interested.

"G'ane!" Merlin whined, tugging on the red sleeve once more. Gwaine vaguely swatted his hand away and continued talking.

"Wait just a second, squirt." Sarah batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"My, good with children, too!" She hummed, not paying the actual child any mind. Gwaine smiled wider, picking the boy up and holding him close.

"Oh, yeah. Kids love me, dontcha, Merlin?" He asked playfully, bouncing Merlin to get his attention. Merlin scowled at his caretaker before gaining a rather evil grin as a plan was formed.

"Ach Gwaine, ní raibh tú ag insint di?" He said in perfect Gaelic, making him quite proud of himself. The knight snapped out of his lovesick daze and eyed the boy suspiciously.

"What exactly d'ya mean, squirt?" He asked in English, for Sarah's benefit. Merlin thought hard for a moment before his mind provided him with the right words.

"Tell hewe?" He asked. Sarah's eyebrow shot up.

"Tell me what, boy?" She inquired. Gwaine then caught the look in the toddler's eye and quickly started making desperate 'stop' motions, but it was to no avail; Merlin's mind was set.

The little child looked to the older girl with wide, childish eyes and frowned comically.

"Din' know?" When she shook her head, he batted his lashes at her and pointed to his big brother. "He sick."

"Sick?" The girl repeated, taking a hasty step back. Gwaine, horrified, tried to shut the boy up, and apologize, anything, really, but Merlin just kept powering on.

"Yeah! Weal bad. Li'e, itzy an' coffie an' fwowin' up!" He exclaimed. The girl eyed the man disgustedly before accepting the coin in Merlin's hand and returning the bag of purchased beads to him, shooing them away. Merlin hugged the beads to his chest, smirking as Gwaine scolded him. He ignored it anyways, although he pretended to look sad every once and a while to get the attention of nearby girls.

One such group of girls saw the man scolding his baby and the tears on the boy's face and immediately flocked around them.

"How could you?"

"He's so little and innocent!"

"Wha's wrong with ya!" They shouted, while Gwaine blanched. Merlin decided to mend the situation, not liking the large crowd.

"Iss otay! I otay!" He exclaimed, raising his hands in the air. The angry shouting stopped, but at the dubious look in the leader's eyes, he pulled out the big guns.

Blinking his eyes and snuggling his face to hide in Gwaine's chainmail, he stared out at the head girl and mumbled, "She pwetty."

It was an ingenious plan, if only it hadn't backfired.

Instantly, a chorus of coos and squeals of adoration filled the air, and the next thing they knew, they were running for their lives. Seriously, what _was_ it with women today?

Gwaine just barely made it to the castle before the women lost them, and together they snuck to Merlin's nursery. The knight sunk to the ground in the security of the darkening room, the small child right next to him, panting just as heavily.

"Oi, Merlin." Gwaine said in a scolding tone, causing said boy to jump. The fear in his eyes was evident, and Gwaine couldn't stay angry for long. He smiled and ruffled the dark curls. "I didn't know you had it ya." He only laughed at the boy's confused face.

"G'ane! Tan we mate da cwaffs now? Tan we?" Merlin brightened suddenly, holding his bag of beads. Gwaine nodded and the boy squealed happily, beginning his work.

Two hours (and lots of help) later, the boy had created two bracelets and a string of beads. The blue and golden one was for 'mama', and the green and blue and red one was for 'Mamaí'. When Gwaine asked whom the string was for, Merlin flushed a little and handed it to him, the green and golden beads shimmering in the light of the fire.

"'S fowe you. Cos youwe my big bwovew and I sowwy fo bein' a turcaí."

Gwaine accepted the gift with a giant, face-splitting grin, and he swooped the boy into a hug. Merlin gladly hugged him back, arms just barely reaching around his neck.

From this position, Merlin took the string and tied it to a lock of the man's hair, taking a very agonizingly long time to get it correct. But, Gwaine was patient. Finally, it was done, and Gwaine promised his baby brother that he would never take it off.

"Do you dragan pwomise?" Merlin demanded, holding out his hand with his fingers spread. Gwaine smiled, placed his spread fingers over the tinier ones, and nodded.

"I dragan promise." The child smiled at him with glee. He grinned, and then picked him up. "Now come on, let's get one of these onion-clothing-layers off before you sweat through them all."

**I know, not my finest chapter, but it's a chapter all the same. I hope you enjoyed!**

**Please be sure to leave me a review! **

**Translations:**

**But Gwaine, didn't you tell her?**

**Mommy**

**Turkey**

**Dragon**


	14. Chapter 14: Why?

**Hey guys! Please don't kill me for being so horribly late!**

**This has literally been one of the busiest months of my life. Updates may slow down from now on, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this story!**

**As I just said, I am INCREDIBLY busy this month, so this 'back from no updating' icebreaker is a tad… shorter. So sorry, but I hope you enjoy regardless!**

**Also, a way to fuel my motivation to get this written would be to help me with the very first step of chapter-writing, which is coming up with ideas. That makes my job a whole lot easier, so please drop a suggestion in the reviews or PM me, and I'd be glad to write a chapter in your honor!**

**Note: Merlin is 18 mos. in this chapter. (A year and a half) Final note: I know it's hard to understand Merlin's baby gibberish (by which I mean whenever he's speaking in English), but if you say it aloud or read it by how it sounds, you should be able to get what he's saying.**

**Chapter 14: Why?**

"Mamaí?" Hunith smiled as she heard the tiny voice pipe up from behind her. She turned and smiled at her young son.

"Yes?" She was trying to encourage his use of English with her, but he seemed determined to keep Gaelic with her and English with everybody else.

"An féidir liom eitilt?" He continued in Gaelic. She blinked, not expecting that question. Merlin, noticing her startled pause, turned his head towards her with a curious gaze. His piercing blue eyes met her brown-blue speckled ones, and she sighed.

"No, Merlin. The birds outside can fly, because they have wings; we cannot because we don't have wings." The boy seemed to think on this for a moment before returning his head to his arms, watching the birds that flew past the window.

"Why?" he asked in English.

"Because that's just the way we are made." She answered patiently. A few more moments went past before she shrugged and returned to making the bed. He had been following her all day, even when she had volunteered to clean the monarchs' bedroom while they were away for a few days.

"An gcaithfidh mé a daidí?" This question made her drop her sheet with a start, and she whipped around to face him to see that he hadn't moved.

"Sweetheart, your real father is no longer… with us. But Arthur is trying to be, don't you think? We all love you very much." She could see the water building up in his eyes as he looked to her with a forlorn look.

"W-why?" He sobbed. Confused, Hunith ran forward and picked up, holding him to her for comfort.

"'Why' what?" There was a short pause before he sniffled and turned a red-rimmed gaze to her.

"Why daidí weave ush? Why ish he not hewe, duz he not lub me?" He whimpered pitifully. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she hugged him tightly once more, beginning to pace around the room and rock him.

"Oh, my dearest. Ní raibh Papa ag iarraidh a fhágáil linn. Ní féidir sé a bheith le linn, ach loves sé dúinn. Is breá leis leat, Meirliún." She soothed, rubbing his back.

"Buh erybuyee ewse haz a daidí! Why no me?" By now he seemed to emotionally exhausted to translate his speech to Gaelic. Hunith's heart was breaking, but she firmly set her resolve. Taking a bent finger and using it to lift his chubby chin, she looked him right in the eye.

"Merlin, it doesn't matter what everyone else has or hasn't. It doesn't matter what they say. All that matters is that you have a family that loves you, and loves you very much at that. Don't let other people make you sad, okay? Because you have people who love you and love to see you happy. Can you be happy for me?"

She knew how as an adult, Merlin had been known for his cheerfulness. Unfortunately, that happiness and natural smile had been learned, had come with age and the maturity to laugh the cruel words away. Young Merlin did not have those skills yet, and only the fact that this wasn't her first time dealing with this situation made her better at handling it. It didn't make it any easier though, to see her child suffering and watching other children and their fathers with a 'hidden' look of longing in his eyes.

Merlin looked away before nodding, sloppily wiping the tears away with his sleeve and looking back up to her face, smiling widely. She tapped his nose with her finger and laughed.

"There's my Merlin." She cooed encouragingly before placing him on the ground and stooping in front of him. He sat on his knees and placed his hands on her arms, waiting for her to speak.

"Son, I know you miss your real father. I know that, even though you love Arthur," He nodded vehemently, looking very serious, "you still want your real daidí… Do you still have Kigrah?" She asked. He thought for a moment and nodded. Crawling over to the corner, he grabbed his bag and rifled through the various odds and ends (that only a child could find worthy of packing and carrying around) and pulled out the carved, wooden dragon. He passed it to her and watched intently.

She lightly ran a finger down the smooth beast's back. "Your daidí made this for you, many years ago." When she said this, he started getting very excited, flapping his hands and kicking his legs. "He made this to show you how much he loves you. Merlin, whenever you get lonely, or someone else makes you feel bad about not having your real daidí, just remember Kigrah and keep him close, and you'll feel your father there with you. Always remember that, okay? You are never alone." With that, she gently gave it back to him. He took it into his small hands reverently, much more respectfully than he had just minutes before. He stared, wide-eyed at the beautiful dragon sculpture that he had always loved. Here it was, proof that he had a daidí. That he was real. That he loved Merlin.

Squealing, he pulled it to his chest and hugged it.

"Fada liom uaim daidí agat, ach is breá liom tú. Fada liom uaim i ndáiríre tú, ach tá mé Arfur anois agus Kigrah mar sin ní bheidh mé brónach, agus is féidir liom a bheith sásta mar a deir Mamaí ba chóir dom a bheith. Maith go leor? Tá súil agam a chloisteáil tú é seo, daidí." And with that silent prayer, he went off to play, Kigrah right by his side.

**I know, shortie. I am also aware that it's kind of mean to make him miss his daddy and forget about Arthur, but I think he would still miss his original father. He sees other kids his age with their fathers and knows that even though he has a similar relationship with Arthur, something's different. He can feel something missing.**

**Anyways, that's my rant for the day.**

**Argos: Thanks! Yeah, I had myself a little worried at first, too! It's great to get your reviews!**

**Translations:**

**Mommy?**

**Can I fly?**

**Do I have a daddy?**

**Papa did not want to leave us. He cannot be with us, but he loves us. He loves you, Merlin.**

**I miss you daddy, but I love you. I really miss you, but I have Arfur now and Kigrah so I won't be sad, and I can be happy like Mommy says I should be. Okay? I hope you hear this, daddy.**

***** daidí- daddy**

**Please be sure to leave a review!**


	15. Chapter 15: Imaginary

**I know I've mentioned before how busy this month is for me, but I just HAD to do a Halloween chapter! It's not exactly horror, but you'll understand after you read.**

**Merlin is 2 years old! Yay!**

**Never Quite Lost: Imaginary**

**Chapter 15**

"That's it, Merlin, breathe. It's almost over, 's almost over." Gwen soothed the coughing child as he struggled. She rubbed soft circles into his baby-soft back, while her other hand held him steady in her lap.

Today was cough-up day. Although it had been only four days since his last cough-up, Gaius became concerned with his thick wheezing and decided Gwen should use the treatment again to help him breathe better.

Merlin, blue-faced and slobbery, was looking at her with teary eyes. He knew this was supposed to be good for him, but that didn't make it any less scary. He felt like he was dying, like any moment now that tiny hole in the sputum allowing him breath would close up forever, and he'd have to suffocate in silence. He sucked in a breath, coughed. Repeated. He had been trying to find certain ways to go about this to get the 'ucky stuff' out sooner, but so far he had found no patterns. Suck in a breath, clear throat, gasp, cough, gag. After a few minutes, he felt the gob give way slightly, and that was all the incentive he needed. He coughed vigorously, redoubling his efforts and positively hacking until finally, _finally_, the dead flesh and phlegm popped out of his open mouth, and he dragged in a gigantic breath of relief. It was over. He was okay.

"There's a good boy, Merlin." Gwen hummed, calmly pulling a shirt over his head and tying his favorite neckerchief around his neck. Merlin smiled at her, absolutely pleased, and wiped the tears away with a fat little hand.

He cleared his throat for a moment before speaking.

"Can I pway wif Juju now?" He rasped. The queen smiled and nodded, sent a servant to fetch Julia, and knelt down to the floor. She sat him on the ground, made sure he was steady on his own, and quickly cleaned at the new mess on the floor.

Merlin crawled over, patting her hand. She stopped her scrubbing and turned to him.

"Yes, Merlin?" The child eyed her hands for a moment.

"Tan I help? I make the mesh, an' Mamai says I 'sposed to cleen up da meshes." His big, innocently blue eyes were too much for her resolve. She retrieved a clean rag from the basket and handed it to him, letting him scrub a 'dirty' piece of tile that, in reality, was several feet away from the actual mess. But, seeing his giant smile and intense concentration, Gwen knew he didn't care. He was going to clean the _heck_ out of that square.

"Did you call for me?" Julia asked in a rush, hurrying through the door and almost tripping on the raven-haired toddler. "Ooh, Merlie, so sorry!" She exclaimed, righting the oblivious boy and continuing to Gwen's side. The queen sat on her knees and beckoned the brunette to sit next to her.

"Merlin wanted to play with you, but let's give him a moment to finish his job." She whispered to her daughter. They watched with stifled giggles as he stuck his tongue out and crinkled his brow in complete and utter intensity. The rag was wiped harshly back and forth over and over, and it wasn't until he had sweat on his neck and an annoyed look on his face that he finally paused. He sat back on his knees and looked to the space next to him.

"'s nawt funny, Will!" He groaned in a weary voice, sounding like a tiny adult. The girls looked at each other in confusion. Merlin, ignoring them, continued after a moment, nodding, "Yeah, but I like cle-cle-" He frowned for a moment before exclaiming, "cleaning!" He was clearly proud of himself. He listened to nothing for a few seconds before whining.

"No, I don' wanna pway wif you right now, Will!" He sounded almost angry. Gwen froze, connecting the dots. He had an imaginary friend. It would have been an adorable moment for her, if she hadn't remembered Merlin talking constantly about a boy he grew up with in Ealdor. A boy named William. Hadn't he died in that small battle? Yes, she remembered now. And she wondered if maybe Merlin was seeing ghosts now.

"Ugh, _fine._ You do it, den!" He cried, dropping the rag on the floor in front of him. Gwen sighed in relief when nothing happened. According to her experience with ghosts, they are able to manipulate inanimate objects, including lighting fires and dragging certain queens by their feet down a hallway. So when the rag didn't move and yet Merlin still seemed content with Will's good job 'cleaning', she released her held breath and smiled. He was just imagining, like all the little boys his age do.

She gently nudged Julia forward, whispering, "Go on, try playing with him and his friend." Julia looked confused but nodded. She awkwardly inched her way over, not being able to move in this ridiculously pompous dress.

She reached the two-year-old's other side, tapped his shoulder and asked, "Can I play with you guys?" Merlin eagerly nodded yes, and they began imaginary playing, Julia carrying him around and pretending to be his dragon, or his horse, or the princess he has to save. Even though he hardly understood what exactly they were pretending, Merlin thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it.

He especially loved playing Dragons with his sister and his (awfully adult-looking) best friend.

**Ooh! Sorry, I had to do it!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this shortie!**

**Oh, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!**


	16. Chapter 16: Terror Comes Not With Age

**Never Quite Lost: Terror Comes Not With Age**

"_Arthur!" The king hurriedly turned on his heel, his long blonde hair flopping in his eyes. Seeing his wife lying a few feet away, he rushed forward._

"_Guenivere!" He screamed, dropping to her side. Blood rushed from her lips and her breathing was weak. Her eyes were sewn shut._

"_Arthur, you did this!" She cried up at him, her clawed hand reaching up and slashing his cheek. The mighty Arthur had to hold in his sobs. This couldn't be his beloved wife. It couldn't, because if it was, he would break._

"_No, I didn't! I tried to help you! I really did!" He begged, making contact with her clenched eyelids. He cradled her fighting form in his lap and tried to avoid glancing even remotely near the two unbreathing, bloody fetuses at her feet. And then another body was laid before him and his queen. It was taller, lankier, and it was horribly familiar. It was Merlin, just as Arthur remembered him._

_He was in even worse condition than Gwen. His eyes and mouth had been sewn shut, blood seeped from between the threads, and there was a large, gaping hole in his chest. Arthur could see the golden glow from behind his eyelids. He slowly rose to his knees and pointed at Arthur, his voice echoing thousands of accusations and insults inside the king's head. Arthur clutched his ears and screamed._

"MERLIN! GWEN!" Arthur woke up sobbing. He bolted upright, and winced at the rush of dizziness he felt. Tears still lingered on his face and his hands were clutching the armrests of his chair like he was going to go flying if he didn't.

He was in the throne room, sitting on his mighty golden throne. His crown was lopsided and his cape had been thrown off to the side. He was alone in the large, imposing room.

"It was just a dream, just a dream." He whispered to himself, taking deep, slow breaths until he was calmer. The relief he felt barely matched his fear. While what he had seen had most certainly scarred him, he had been relieved to know it wasn't real, it was over. He felt so conflicted. That was one of his worst fears, and he had just seen it like it had indeed been realized.

Letting out a shaky breath, the king sunk his head into his hands and wept.

~oOo~

"'wen? You gonna feel be'er? You need to feel be'er so we can pway dragons!" Merlin exclaimed excitedly, bouncing around on his knees on the soft mattress.

"Merlin, calm down." Gwen lightly scolded, holding in the bile her jostled stomach was threatening to expel. Merlin sheepishly obeyed. "Sweetheart, I promise I'll feel better soon, okay? I just don't feel better right now." She said slowly. A worried frown covered the child's face.

"Are you otay? You're otay, right? Youwe not gonna go brrr, right? Don't go brrrr!" He cried, and the queen noticed the sudden water buildup in his cerulean orbs.

Alarmed, Gwen hurried to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. He sniffled.

"Merlin, what does that mean?" She asked carefully. He let out a sob and launched himself forward, tackling her into her pillow and clinging to her stomach in a desperate hug. Although it made it twice as hard to keep from vomiting, and she was sure her face must have been completely green, Guenivere smiled sadly and hugged the little boy closer, running her fingers through his raven hair and tucking it behind his oversized, comical ears. She let him cry into her nightdress, soothing him whilst simultaneously trying to avoid breathing her sick air on him. After a few minutes, Merlin's teary, muffled explanation was heard.

"Don't go brrr! I don' wan' you to! Youwe have da red all ovewe, and youwe say youwe otay ,but den youwe gimme a hug and youwe 'top movin, and den youwe get weally tode and hawd, and youwe 'kin 'll git awe whi'e, and you won' wake up! Don't go brr, please!*****" He lisped around his gappy teeth. Gwen puzzled it out in her head, and then vomited into the chamber pot below. Merlin let go of her and let her finish, crawling to the opposite side of the bed and sitting, picking at his fingernails. He was still crying, but he figured he should keep it quiet if it was making Gwen sick. He felt so guilty, this was his fault! He could vaguely see Will standing by the stained glass windows, silently begging him not blame himself, but he looked away, glad he couldn't hear his friend. He didn't deserve the comfort right now.

When Gwen had spat up the last bit of bile and had straightened herself out again, her head still reeled. Why would baby Merlin remember death? Does he understand what it ultimately means, or just what it looks like? Who does he remember dying? Why does he have to remember _that_, of all things? Poor, poor child.

"Merlin." She rasped, trying to steady her voice in her raw throat. He looked up at her, tilting his head and not bothering to wipe the snot from his face. He looked so innocent, so vulnerable. She smiled reassuringly and beckoned him to lay against her side. Once they were settled, she began to explain.

"Merlin, 'going brrr,' as you put it, means to die. When we die, our bodies get cold, and our souls go to heaven. When we die, there's no more pain. We are always happy. And when we die, it's always for a reason. Merlin, I am not going to die, because this is not a deadly disease, okay? I would never leave you. I promise, you have nothing to fear. So please, forget that awful memory. Think of death as, as moving on. Don't think about going brr." As she spoke, the boy visibly brightened, and he nodded resolutely. Then, he hugged her again, much lighter this time.

"Tank you, 'wen." He whispered, and they sat like that, in silence, for who knows how long. Both were at peace, comfortably resting and being heated by the other.

And then Merlin bolted upright with a wail.

"Arfur!" He exclaimed, hurriedly climbing to the edge of the bed. Before Gwen could reach out and grab him, he had already slid down the side and landed with a thud on his bum. That didn't stop him, however, and his eyes had a determined glint. Gwen tried to stand and chase after him, but was too weak to sit up.

"Merlin, where are you going?" She called as he crawled to the nearest wall. He didn't answer her; just grabbed the tapestry hanging from the stones and pulled with all his might. Had he been bigger, he could have torn the thing off the wall, but being his size, he was able to pull himself to a stand. Gwen stared, dumbstruck, as his resolve never wavered and he took a step away from his solid support.

His legs wobbled under his own weight and his knobby knees bowed, threatening to buckle. Merlin bit his lower lip and took another step further, holding his arms out for balance.

"I gawta get ta Arfur!" He cried, adventurously moving forward again. But this time, his left knee sprung forwards, and he began falling backwards, mouth open in a surprised shriek. His eyes flashed gold, and the suit of armor across the room sprinted forward, catching him and safely raising him back to his feet.

Once he was standing again, Merlin made another fearless attempt at walking, using magic to rip his slippery socks off first. Now that he had traction, he made much better progress, though the empty armor was always two steps behind, cautiously waiting in case he needed it again.

Once he finally got the hang of it, and he had practiced walking round the room a few times, he began to pick up his pace at regular intervals until he was galloping the awkward skip all young children have a habit of doing. His eyes were gleaming with pride and glee, but his mouth and eyebrows were still set in firm determination.

Without a word to his adoptive mother, Merlin trotted out the door, headed down the hall. An additional wave of magic swept through the room as an afterthought, collapsing the armor to the floor, easing Gwen's aches and pains and lowering her fever, then pulling her into a restful sleep before she could protest or send someone after him.

He made his way down the hall, animating any suits of armor nearby to catch him if he fell, then found himself at the stairs, the only obstacle between him and his Once and Future King.

Sweat beading on his brow, Merlin slowly and meticulously eased himself onto the first step, sitting on his butt and scooting down to plop onto the next one. He continued this for another twenty-three stairs (he counted for future use) and then tiredly pulled himself up to stand once more. He ran as fast as his teeny legs would carry him, down several long, large corridors until he stood before the humongous doors to the throne room. He could hear and sense someone sobbing inside; he knew that someone was Arthur. He had felt the intense pain his other half had felt; he had felt the throbbing heart and teary eyes and the strong sense of loss and grief. He knew Arthur needed him right now, when he could not have his wife.

Walking forward and leaning against the sturdy wood, he knocked five times and asked, "Arfur?" When no answer came, he huffed and magically shoved the doors open.

~oOo~

The door suddenly banged open with a loud clash, making the king jump in surprise. He hurriedly wiped the tears away and turned to look away from whichever subject this was; trying to uphold his dignity.

"Ah, yes. Apologies, what did you nee- OOF-!" He wheezed as a small weight slammed into his stomach. He immediately went on the defensive, trying to figure out who had attacked him.

"Arfur! You otay?" Came the welcomed, sweet little voice. He sighed in relief and put on a teary smile.

"Yes, Merlin. I'm fine." He assured, before thinking of something. "Wait, how did you get in here?" Merlin looked up at him and smiled a toothy smile.

"Li'e dis!" He said proudly, jumping down from the king's lap and standing shakily on his two feet. Arthur beamed at him, joy swelling up inside him. Merlin was finally walking.

"Great job, Merlin! Who taught you?" Merlin confusedly told him that nobody had, he learned himself. He then proceeded to run around in jovial circles, his face split in a genuine, giddy grin. His long raven hair flopped around, sometimes blown behind him, sometimes whipped into his face. His cheeks were flushed and there was some major hand flapping going on as well. Excited giggles escaped his mouth.

Arthur, heart melting in his chest, couldn't resist his innocent happiness and jumped from his throne, chased after his son, and when he had swept him into his protective arms, he placed a kiss on his sweaty forehead. They sat on the cold stone floor, breathing heavily as they calmed down from their game. Arthur looked to his adoptive son.

"How did you get down here, anyway?" Merlin cocked an eyebrow, as if saying, 'are you stupid?' Arthur wondered if that look could be counted as blasphemy. Merlin had always been more brains than brawn, Arthur knew, but as a child he was overwhelmingly so. Arthur sometimes almost forgot he was only a toddler with his sass and large (although lisped) vocabulary.

"I wa'ed, 'membewe?" He smiled charmingly, though the king could sense his confusion.

"No, I mean, who came with you?" Merlin shook his head, nobody. "Why did you come here, then?" It's not that he wasn't overjoyed by his intervention, but he was still concerned. Did his guards and servants really let a toddler run freely about the castle? And what was the boy's reasoning? He had been keeping a sick Gwen company while Arthur did his kingly duties. Had something happened to her?

Merlin, instantly reading his panic, smiled calmly. Arthur wasn't sure, but as his nerves calmed themselves, he thought he had seen a flash of golden in those navy depths.

"I tame betawse you nee'ed me." He explained, pointing a long, thin finger at Arthur's chest. Of their own accord, the events of his gory nightmare played vividly through his mind, and he winced. As the dream played on repeat, he noticed a stricken look on Merlin's face as well, and his tears matched Arthur's own. Was he watching this? Before he could demand that Merlin shield himself from the horror, it was over, the images shrinking away to the very back of his mind until their stabbing pain was nothing but a little sting. His muscles relaxed, and Merlin opened his eyes rather sluggishly, letting out a slow breath before perking up again.

Without speaking, they both knew that the gore was cleansed from their minds forever. And although Arthur hated that Merlin had just put himself through that, he was eternally grateful as well. And even more so that the boy seemed to have forgotten it all completely.

"Thank you, Merlin." He said honestly, though his heart was heavy at the boy's solemn face. Merlin picked up on this as well, and his solemnity became determination.

"Arfur, you gawta 'top worryin' about da past. I otay, 'wen is otay, an' youwe otay. So 'top cwyin' an' be happy!" He insisted. Arthur already felt better, and looked at him curiously.

"You're very bossy, you know." He said with a fake frown. Merlin pouted, though he had to fight his laughter pretty hard.

"Yeah, wewe 'top whinin' about it!" He said haughtily, a smile breaking out on his face.

"Ugh, you're such a _girl_, Merlin!" Arthur accidentally slipped into their old banter. Merlin paused, his smile slipping until he was staring at Arthur dead-on, not blinking. He was frowning intensely.

Arthur panicked, wondering if he had triggered some memory for Merlin, and wondering that, if he had, were there more that had come to light? What was he thinking right now? Had he ruined life for his son?

Ominously, Merlin leaned forward, and Arthur hesitantly did so as well.

Merlin opened his mouth, still scowling, and said in a fierce whisper,

"At leas' I'm not a cloppole."

Then he leaned backwards, almost falling, as he laughed uncontrollably.

Arthur, though in shock, couldn't prevent laughing with him for very long.

Sometimes it was good to have cheeky, classic Merlin back.

"Don't be supercilious, now, Merlin!"

"Whatevewe, dollophead."

Even though he _was _a smart-aleck.

**Merlin's Baby-Talk Translation: "Don't go brr! I don't want you to! You'll have the red all over, and you'll say you're okay, but then you'll give me a hug and you'll stop moving, and then you'll get really cold and hard and then your skin will get all white and you won't wake up!"**


	17. Chapter 17: A Birthday Encounter

**I am so, so sorry for the delay! Holiday seasons and such!**

**Got any ideas for my future chapters? Leave them in the reviews or PM me!**

**Merlin is technically 3 in this chapter.**

**Never Quite Lost: A Birthday Encounter and its Lost Boy**

"Merlin, darling, wake up." Hunith crooned as she gently shook the sleeping child's shoulder. Merlin groaned and swatted lazily at her hand, refusing to open his eyes.

"Mamai, please lmma sleeeep…" he grumbled. She smiled and beckoned her secret weapon closer.

Julia, clad in her finest party dress, leaned over the rail of the cradle and flexed her fingers, cracking them in anticipation. In his muddled brain, Merlin sleepily matched that noise to his sister, wondering what she was planning… his eyes snapped open in horror, but he was too late to save himself as her thin fingers plunged into his swaddled side. Shrieking, the boy writhed and contorted, trying to break free of the blankets that bound him, to no avail.

"Are you awake yet? Huh? Are you awake, Merlie?" Julia panted out between her evil cackles. Merlin tried his best to look defiant, but his face was still forced to smile and laugh with childish glee as he finally escaped his captor and sprung to his feet. He clumsily flung himself over the rail and landed gracelessly on his back, but his continued laughter and sheepish smile reassured the two girls that he was okay.

Hunith chuckled.

"Looks like the birthday boy is finally up." She said. He nodded excitedly at her, but when Julia took a step closer to him, he flinched away, covering his now-exposed ribcage with a distrustful look in his eye. Even her annoying tickling couldn't ruin his day, now that he remembered exactly what day it was.

Then came his usual morning routine. Hunith bathed him, although he insisted that he could do it himself, being a big boy now. Then Julia, who had to chase him around for a few minutes and catch him first, clothed him. Their games were such fun, and she even let him choose what he wore! His treasured red shirt and corresponding blue neckerchief were fisted from the closet, and he kept jumping excitedly as they were pulled over his head. His valiant efforts to tie his own neckerchief were in vain, though, and he reluctantly had to turn around and let his big sister do it. She promised him that one day he could get it on his own.

Then came his least favorite part of the routine: pants.

He liked being clothed, sure, but those pants were just too scratchy for his sensitive skin. He tried to suffer through it, but he always ended up scratching places he really shouldn't scratch, and usually it was in public. Wow, had his mother been embarrassed! He probably would be too, someday, but for now he stuck with being a shameless youth.

And so, as the dreaded _pants_ were carried closer to him, he had to make a split-second decision; honor his own beliefs or satisfy his mother?

The answer to that was simple; he needed to stay strong in his beliefs that pants were evil.

Besides, he was the birthday boy, right? It was obviously not his fault if he decided against his mother.

And so the whole rest of the morning was spent with Hunith, Julia, Gwen, and the knights chasing a flash of pink, half-naked lightning throughout the entire castle, the courtyard, and even the edges of the lower town until he finally tired himself out and was found dozing in the stables among the calves a few hours after the search parties were called out.

And that is the story behind Gwaine's future drunken babbling about "The Day the Pantless Wonder Streaked Camelot."

~oOo~

Fisting his eyes groggily, Merlin slowly sat up and looked around a bit warily, his confusion overtaking his curiosity. When did he get back to his cot? But wait- where were the rails? He was definitely in his room, and this felt like the same cot, but the dungeon-like bars were gone from the sides.

Slowly becoming more confused and –honestly- quite a bit frightened, he grabbed up his favorite blue blanket and Kigrah and held them close, popping his free thumb into his mouth.

"Mamai?" He called around the thumb. When there was no response, he crawled carefully to the edge of the cot- bed, whatever it was- and looked at the floor below. He had fallen from taller heights, but this somehow seemed more intimidating.

He calculated the probabilities of his being injured in his mind, and, realizing he would have to do this whether he liked it or not, he climbed down the side and dropped onto his feet.

This was when he realized that he had been pants-ed (panted? Pantsed?) in his slumber.

What was going on?

Distractedly, he scratched the fabric that was already beginning to chafe his inner thighs as he toddled to the large door, which he realized had been left ajar. Mamai had always closed his door to keep him safe while he slept.

A sense of trepidation overcame him, and he plopped back down on his bum. He pulled blankie securely around his shoulders and covered his face with his hands. Maybe if he waited in the safety of the darkness his closed eyes provided, someone would find him and protect him.

…

No, he needed to find them. Stubbornly, he stood back up and pulled the door all the way open, cringing at the high-pitched squeal it gave.

The halls were dimly lit and the only company he had was that of the multiple suits of armor, standing stoic and proud in neat rows. He timidly toddled down the center of the large corridor, eyes wide and thumb returning to his mouth once more. Those metal knights sure were tall…

He slowly made progress down the imposing hall, noticing every single detail that he wouldn't have bothered with normally. Every flicker of a candle, every rustle of the breeze. When he heard a muted shifting of metallic proportions, Merlin's breath hitched in his throat. It had been the smallest sound, and yet every system in the child's body was on full alert. He fought to keep his bladder under control.

Horrified, he spun on his heel and peered down the passageway from whence he had come. The setting sun's light bounced off the various metal surfaces, including- to Merlin's utter terror- an empty suit of armor spewed across the floor just a few feet away.

Were those footsteps he heard, prowling among the shadows? His eyes were bugging and his breathing was quick and shallow. At every sound, he jumped and spun around.

"Boo!" Came a familiar voice from behind him. Merlin screamed anyways, fighting as hard as humanly possible- and then some- to keep the urine from leaving his body. Strong arms scooped his trembling form off the ground and wrapped him in his blankie in a soothing swaddle. Gwaine noticed his terror and immediately pulled him closer, muttering apologies over and over.

"Oh Lord, Merlin! I didn't mean to scare ya _that _badly! I'm sorry! Are you okay?" The child shakily nodded, hugging his protector closer.

"I was alone!" He cried, not sure if it was relief or shock that he was feeling. Gwaine pulled him away from his chest and looked him in the eyes.

"Merlin, you will never be forgotten or abandoned. We all care for you very mu-"

He paused his heartfelt speech when he noticed his ward staring at a space over his shoulder with intense curiosity. Sighing, he started to turn around so he could take a look.

That was when the figure that Merlin had been studying decided to take action, charging at the knight head-on. Gwaine had no time to react, and because of his being caught off guard, he was taken down with a single sleeping spell. Dropping Merlin onto his butt, his eyelids fluttered closed and he dropped painfully to the ground with a thick thud.

Merlin screamed. His magic welled up inside of him, and his eyes turned molten gold in color. He wasn't thinking, just letting his instincts guide him.

The hooded figure held out a warning hand, a hand covered in tattoos and holding a dagger. A male voice whispered,

"You use your magic once, and I'll kill your mother and your king. Your knight here will be the first to go. Understand?" And Merlin, too young to realize that he could easily kill this man and so end his threats, tearfully obeyed, swallowing his magic down uncomfortably.

The scary man sent him to sleep too.

~oOo~

Khalil knew of the risks he was taking. He also knew he had no choice. The royal brat was his only chance, and if this was what he had to do, so be it.

As the raven-haired toddler sank much more lightly to the floor, he rushed forward and grabbed him up. He took him under the folds of his thick black cloak, holding the boy to his chest and using his magic to place a piece of tattered parchment on the stone floor next to the dozing knight.

Double-checking that he had left nothing out, Khalil's eyes then burned red and in a flash of blue light, both tiny warlock and mere sorcerer disappeared from the castle.

As the young man carried Merlin hurriedly through the forest surrounding Camelot, his thoughts strayed to the child now in his custody. He sure was light for a spoiled, eat-whatever-you-want prince. A miniscule pang of regret shot through his heart as he gazed at the tiny face, the bony limbs, and the worn yet well-mended clothing. This was someone's baby. This was _King Arthur_'_s _baby. His _magical_ baby. That thought made him frown.

Was _this _why Pendragon had returned magic to the realm? Because his own son was born with it? Khalil was sickened at the thought that it took _his own child_ to be at risk for the thick-headed king to finally realize that sorcerers were not evil, and that most did not ask for their powers. Idiot.

He really did pity the boy, in all honesty. Children shouldn't have to be put through such madness. Maybe he should just... no. His face set in hard determination and his steps became more purposeful. He had nothing against the boy, and this may be dangerous for him. But he _had to get this done_.

This was what had to be done if Khalil was to see his own little boy again, and with such precious things at stake, he couldn't afford to care what happened to this one.

**Uh-oh! Merlie's in a little bit of trouble, isn't he? On his birthday, no less! And without his medicine? Gasp! What will I do next? I guess you'll just have to keep reading, won't you?**

**Oh, and maybe leave a little review too. Those things are what keep my creative juices a'flowin'!**

**Thanks!**


	18. Chapter 18: The Irony

**Wow! Great feedback, guys! **** My creativity has spiked thanks to you, so here's a sorta early update!**

**Thanks for the reviews, and be sure to leave more!**

**Never Quite Lost: The Irony of Said Title**

To say Arthur was pissed was an understatement.

He continuously rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to calm his raging headache. Peasant after peasant came filtering through the great doors to the mighty throne room, each having a- rather whiny- complaint to share.

Around two dozen claimed that a child was living naked on the streets, and that some abuser must be hiding within Camelot's very walls. About three fourths of these people also had scoldings for him, 'respectfully' demanding why he allowed his own citizens to be treated this way.

If that wasn't enough, interspersed between these lovely visits were the conspiracy theorists; he had lost count of how many elderly men had asked about possible invading forces, and if maybe this was some sort of spy. One even claimed that it was the king's pet imp, escaped from its cage and causing mischief.

And then came the best ones, the peasants who had recognized Merlin and had come with the sole purpose of lecturing Arthur on how irresponsible his actions were, and how to be a better parent to the lad. This group mostly consisted of elderly women with very few- or no- children of their own.

After six hours of listening to reports, not once being able to wean Merlin's location from the witnesses, the king had simply ordered the rest of the people away.

Worry niggled in his brain, and he allowed it to. Merlin had been escaped and half-naked for about seven hours, it currently being noon when he ran off at around five in the morning. The search parties had lost his trail a while back in the lower town, as he had probably used his magic to increase his own speed. Now they were all floundering, having no idea where else to search.

'This is ridiculous! Merlin is my son, and I am sitting on my throne as he is searched for!' Arthur thought, immediately standing and rushing down the halls. He summoned his daughter to him and asked to be filled in.

"Well, the knights are currently looking in the marketplace, Her Majesty is leading the servants throughout the castle and I am to help Lady Hunith search the courtyard." Julia explained, gesticulating wildly in her hysterics. Arthur could see she was out of breath and was itching to get back to the search. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I will accompany you." He said, and without further prompting, they ran down to the large courtyard, bustling with activity and possibilities. They caught Hunith's gaze and she nodded to her left, showing them where to start searching. It had been over seven hours at this point, and they needed to find him soon. They even split up to cover more ground.

They searched high and low, behind every statue and water pump, through every doorway, but found nothing.

Cue a peasant's convenient interruption.

"Sire! Sire!" She exclaimed in fear. "The calves, they have gone mad!" Arthur stopped his scouring and raised a brow at her.

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked. She grasped his forearm in desperation, not realizing how inappropriate this action was.

"They have started to wail, sire! And when any of the men try to approach, they charge at them!" Arthur admitted that his curiosity was peaked, but mostly for the reason that this woman may have been mistaken on who exactly had gone mad. He had better things to worry about, and she chooses _now _to bombard him with such trivial matters?

"I am sure they are fine. Consult an expert on this." Was all he said, brushing her hands off and continuing to search. Then she shouted behind him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"But sire! There's a child in danger, sire!" He spun on his heel and ran back to her, placing hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise.

"Child? What child?" He demanded. The woman shook slightly.

"I don't know, sire. I can't ever seem to get a good look at 'im! He's got black hair, according to the merchant across from the stables." Arthur's heart froze.

"Was he fully clothed?" He asked, and she now looked like she doubted _his _sanity. When there was no immediate answer, he shook her slightly.

"_Was he fully clothed?"_ Now she shivered harder under his grasp, her eyes wide as she desperately thought back to the incident.

"I- I don't… Wait, I remember! He had a shirt on, but from what I could see between the calves, his legs were naked. I remember getting angry when some children made jokes of it." Arthur sagged his shoulders, releasing her.

"Thank you." He said. "What is your name?" She smiled rather kindly, relaxing, and he decided he liked her better now that she wasn't insane.

"Sara, M'Lord." She curtsied. He bowed his head and was off to the stables that held the young calves.

~oOo~

"Woah! Back!" Arthur yelled, jumping back himself. He stood at the entrance to the stables, blocked by a solid wall of large baby cows. A particularly rowdy heifer snorted and shoved her thick skull into his gut, shoving him even further.

He was beyond angry.

When he had arrived, a large crowd had gathered to watch as the Mighty King Arthur faced down the miniature cattle. All calves were loose throughout the small shack, yet they all seemed to radiate around the far back corner, blocking his view. Not to mention the incessant crying noises they made- his head was throbbing even harder now. Honestly, they needed to limit the cow population.

A fuzzy body stood sideways in front of him, making a successful barrier between the threat and her fellow calves.

'Merlin is in there.' Arthur thought to himself, and having had enough, he unsheathed his sword. A collective gasp was heard behind him. Was he really going to slaughter the adorable baby cows?

Thankfully, the sight of the blade had the proper effect on the animals, and they all backed away in fear. Smirking, he shoved his way through to the very back corner, feeling similar to a fisherman wading through the murky, waist-deep ponds.

And there, to his utmost relief, was Merlin, sleeping rather soundly on the large pile of hay.

His feet and legs were filthy and his hair splayed out in all directions. His thumb was tucked securely in his mouth. Sighing, Arthur sheathed his sword and scooped the tiny child into his arms and wrapped him in his cape for cover, holding him close as a comfort.

He was okay.

Making as little noise as possible, the king escaped the sea of cows. The boy was too pooped to even stir in his heavy sleep. A very loud applause met the king as he emerged from the stables, although through the loud praise several snarky comments made their way to his ears.

"Isn't that his son?"

"Sure looks like 'im!"

"I dunno, I ain't seen 'im in person, but he looks too pale to be related to the king and queen."

"But 'e has the queen's hair!"

"Why is he naked? Does the king really allow such treatment?"

"That couldn't be 'is son, then, if he treats him so!"

"Hush, you two. Children do crazy things sometimes. He is a good king, do not let a toddler's actions be held against him." Arthur smiled in appreciation and his heart warmed. He had some very wise citizens. Some, at least.

Arthur rushed the boy to his mother, who then took him to his nursery to be cleaned up. Gaius later checked the slumbering child over, giving him a clean bill of health and suggesting that he be allowed to rest his exhausted body until his birthday celebration that night.

~oOo~

"Where are they?" Arthur asked in frustration. Gwen placed a hand on his.

"Arthur, Merlin was out cold, remember? He probably hasn't even woken up yet. Gwaine will bring him when he's ready."

It didn't help too much, though. Arthur still felt a strange trepidation in his gut, like he just _knew _that something was wrong. Had Merlin gotten hurt? He had had Lancelot remove the rails to the cradle as a symbol of Merlin's three-year-old status, but maybe it had been a mistake? Had he fallen? What if he had gotten lost? Gwaine was supposed to stand watch over his ward's room until he had awoken, then bring Merlin to the party after. Had Gwaine allowed something to happen? It was past sunset, Merlin should have roused by now.

Everyone had gathered in the main hall, waiting for the duo's arrival. Arthur became uneasy as he realized that no one remained near the vicinity of his son and his knight, meaning no one would be able to witness to anything that happened. A chill went down his spine.

"Percival, Elyan, go check on Gwaine and Merlin." He whispered to his knights, trying not to cause any panic in the crowd. They nodded and left. The sea of servants and peasants and even a visiting noble or two immediately parted for them. Thousands of pairs of eyes looked questioningly at their king, but his nod sent them back to their festivities. Hunith, who was slicing up the turkey she had specially baked, looked up at Arthur with a kind smile.

"Sire, they are going to be al-" But then she froze mid-sentence. Her face drained of color, her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. A choked gasp emerged from her gaping mouth, and the knife slipped from her slacked hands, which Arthur noticed were shaking severely.

"Hunith? Hunith! What is wrong?" Arthur yelled, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her face closer to his. She slowly looked up into his eyes, and the teary, horrified look in hers told him she felt the exact same thing he had been for so long now.

"M-Merlin." She whispered.

Elyan burst through the doors, sprinting to the main table where the royals stood. He was panting heavily and his eyes were crazed.

"Sire! Merlin is gone!" He cried, drawing all attention to himself. Arthur froze.

"Where is Gwaine?" Gwen demanded of her brother, furious that the knight hadn't stopped this.

"He is unconscious. Percival is carrying him to Gaius's chambers." Was the answer. Oh no.

Gaius nodded and left for his chambers.

"Are you sure Merlin is gone?" Arthur worried. Elyan nodded sadly and produced a faded piece of parchment. The king took it in trembling hands.

_I take your son with a heavy heart._

_I hold no regrets for your sake, but for his._

_He is most necessary for reasons I am not to list._

_Do not expect him back, and do not come searching for him._

_Coming too close will have deadly consequences._

_For whom the punishment will be, you may take a guess._

It was signed with the letter K followed by a swooping drawing of a dragon's head.

Arthur split the paper in two and leapt over the table, storming through the doors and to the armory.

Within twenty minutes, the troops had mounted their horses, ready to start the search.

Guenivere watched with a sullen face as the brilliant Pendragon red faded into the dark, merciless black; she desperately wondered if their family would ever be whole again.

"Bring him home, Arthur." She whispered.

**Please leave a review!**


	19. Chapter 19: Yep, He's Lost

**Wow guys! Your reviews are very encouraging, and very inspiring! (Not to mention they attract other people to read this ;) Thanks for that!) But seriously, keep it up, it's really helping me kick my story-writing into gear!**

**Thank you for being supportive, and if I start slacking, feel free to motivate me (leave a review or PM me) to update more often!**

**This does have one smack to a child, towards the very end. Ye have been warned.**

**Never Quite Lost: Yup, He's Lost**

When Merlin came to, the first thing he was aware of was the fact that he was laying on his stomach. Then he realized that whatever he was laying on was giving him a very bumpy ride. It was hard, rough and cold against his thinly-clothed belly.

This was when he realized that he wasn't wearing his usual clothes. There was a relieving lack of pants, but his favorite shirt was gone too and he drearily realized that his neck was naked of its neckerchief. Instead, one single cloth seemed to cover his whole body, and he assumed he wore a robe. A hood could be felt covering the back of his head and cushioning his forehead.

Maybe he shouldn't open his eyes; he feared what he would see.

But, being a child with a rather short attention span and a very large curiosity, he soon found himself opening them anyway.

He saw nothing but black.

Immediately, Merlin was confused. There was no blindfold on his face; he was very sensitive to touch and would definitely be able to feel if there was. Also, he could feel wind blowing into his eyes and drying them out, meaning that they were indeed open and exposed. He blinked, maybe it was just something that happens when you first wake up. When this continued to do no good, he brought his hands up to rub at them.

His arms stopped mid-motion, and he realized his arms were tied around his ride's neck. He then noticed he couldn't move his feet, which were tied around something behind him and keeping him sprawled rather uncomfortably. Two cloth barriers kept him from falling off the creatures' back. He knew it was alive only because he could hear the panting breaths and the four-patterned footsteps. And while the thing's skin was cold to the touch, his own heart felt exceptionally warm. He didn't know why.

When he heard two more feet nearby, he called out.

All that emerged was a gasp.

He couldn't speak.

And now his magic was coursing through him, and he recognized some rather strong spells keeping his vocal cords taught and his eyes unseeing. His breathing picked up rapidly, and he almost passed out once more when the creature stopped walking and he heard soft-spoken commands.

"Still."

It sounded like an order one gave to a pet, but the beast continued swaying and pacing in its new spot, ignoring him. He repeated it a few times, each time gaining more fury, before the animal sat and Merlin was upright.

"Pendragon, are you awake?" A voice from his left asked in his ear. The boy didn't respond, having no idea who this 'Pendragon' was.

"Child!" The male voice exclaimed in frustration. Merlin jumped and nodded his head, though the large hood made it hard for the adult to tell.

"Listen very carefully, Pendragon. You will be staying with me for a few days, and I have rules. Rules you must follow. Understand?" Merlin nodded submissively once again. The man continued, "You seem to be quite abundant in magical power. I have prevented you from speaking so you may not recite incantations, and for extra reassurance I need you to swear something to me. You will not use any magic whatsoever, and if you do, you will get a smack and I will kill your mother and father." Merlin, still confused about who 'Pendragon' was, what a smack meant, and which mother he was referring to, understood the killing and no magic parts and nodded again. The man seemed pleased at this, and continued. "I will untie you from my dragon, but you will not move until I order you so. You will do nothing that I do not command. We will travel by day, stay on this path, and will stop to eat and rest only when I tell you so. At night, we will set up camp and a fire, and you will stay by my side. If at any point you decide to run away or escape, I will kill your whole family." Merlin gulped and felt tears in his eyes. He nodded. "When we walk during the day, you may walk yourself until you tire. Akryska will carry you after that, but be warned, she does not fly and does not take well to children. Therefore, stay away from her face.

Also, your voice and your sight will have to be continually suppressed as to avoid… bad people finding us. At night I will allow you to see to relieve the discomfort of the spell, but during the day you must be blind so you cannot see where we are going, and you will remain mute until our journey is complete. Understand?"

Merlin thought this over for a moment before nodding one final time, his lip quivering. He just wanted to go _home._

~oOo~

"Alright, child, stop." He commanded of his charge, who obediently stopped walking and stood still, awaiting directions. He fought hard to keep his legs straight and his eyes open.

They had walked for hours in silence, the only words between the two being the Man's instructions on which way they were turning and when to start walking straight again. When the boy lagged behind, a snort of hot breath on his neck from a cranky dragon would instantly speed him up, fear of being hurt overcoming his exhaustion. For a while, at least.

He heard the Man gathering wood in front of them, and his skin broke out in gooseflesh when he realized he was building a fire, and it reminded him of how cold he was. He shivered underneath the robe, and the hood dropped to completely conceal his face. His bare feet curled and his toes had long ago lost circulation. He was pretty sure the soles of his feet were bleeding and blistered, but he was unable to complain.

"Light it." The Man snapped to Akryska, who snorted and was heard walking away. The Man chanted angrily and a whipping sound was heard accompanied with an angry yelp, and the dragon reluctantly complied. The sound of fire crackling made Merlin shiver harder in longing. The first cough of many escaped his blue-tinted lips.

The Man seemed to remember his promise then and chanted once more, and Merlin's eyes were released from the tight, painful hold of the spell. He could see, and the brightness of the fire in contrast to the dark night of the forest surrounding it almost blinded him once more. Carefully, he kept his eyelids cracked open until his sore eyes finally adjusted enough to see where he was going. He stumbled forward and sat on a log by the gorgeous flames, across from the Man. He held his hands out to warm them, and coughed again.

~oOo~

Merlin was fed a piece of large bread and was provided with a small flask of water. He drank it greedily, much to the annoyance of the Man. He scolded him for it and warned him that he could only have so much water a day, and he needs to save it until they reach the stream in a few days.

Merlin was confused. So very, very confused. There were so many weird things going on, and he was overwhelmed. He coughed absentmindedly into his sleeve.

Why wouldn't the Man let him see his face? He kept his hood draped low over his face, and the only glimpse Merlin ever got of it was when his mouth was outlined in the flickering lights.

Merlin went to sleep that night, on the ground, curled up in his robe, wondering where Juju and Arthur and Gwen and Mamai were, and if they would be coming soon.

~oOo~

Merlin's first glimpse of Akryska was three days later, when he had obediently stood in front of 'Him' and had his eyes relieved from their constant torture. The scaly beast had trudged around behind her master and sat on her haunches, glaring at the Man's back.

She was the most beautiful dragon ever! Her scales were a snowy, silky white and her eyes were as blue as the depths of the sea. She was very small for a dragon, maybe around the size of a large foal, with a long, thick tail and sharp teeth and claws. Her back was somewhat disfigured, and her wings were torn, but she wasn't at all helpless.

She looked like the light of the sun.

He stared at her for a few moments before the Man turned to see what was so interesting, and he waved his arms in a shooing motion, commanding her to go find food. At first she looked him defiantly in the eye, standing her ground, before he pulled out a string from around his neck and shoved it in her face. She huffed angrily before skulking into the trees.

~oOo~

It had been five days since Merlin had awoken on the dragon's back, and he seemed to have already adjusted to their schedule. He obediently followed behind Khalil at the appropriate speed, followed directions and ate his food, preserving his water rations for as long as he could.

But, the man noticed with a nervous pang one day, the boy also seemed to be losing his liveliness. His skin faded in color (an impossible enough feat already with his pale complexion) and his eyes looked rather sunken, his cheekbones became more prominent and his breaths, more shallow. By the sixth day he could barely walk two hours by himself before climbing limply onto Akryska's back and struggling to stay conscious.

Now, Khalil knew the boy didn't eat as much as he was comfortable with (he was a father after all), but he had no extra food. He got as hydrated as could, and the robe he wore- that used to be Caleb's- was warmer than his other clothes, even if only by a slight bit. His other clothes were burned as to avoid detection. He didn't know what to do.

By the seventh day, the boy had collapsed without warning, curling up on his side in the fetal position and coughing uncontrollably. His face turned bluer than it usually did in the cold, as did his fingernails and lips. He made strangled noises and writhed before his movements became weak and shaky. His eyes shined in an ironically dull fashion. He coughed up lots of blood. The only thing Khalil knew for sure was that this boy was most definitely dying.

_Why _he was dying, he had no idea.

~oOo~

Merlin. Couldn't. Breathe.

Everything was so dark already, and the lack of oxygen just seemed to make it worse. He clawed at his throat, desperately wanting to stop the spell the man had used so that he could breathe just a little bit easier. To no avail.

He could feel himself getting picked up and cradled in the Man's arms before he finally passed out.

~oOo~

It took Khalil a full three seconds to decide that the spell around the boy's vocal cords must be the culprit. The druid had asked for the child _alive_ if he was to get Caleb returned to him, and this apparently was the only way. He chanted under his breath and his eyes flashed green, and the boy's throat relaxed in the form of an exhaled whimper.

The boy had fallen unconscious in his arms.

Hurriedly, he took him up and trudged swiftly down the path, hoping his actions would preserve Pendragon for just a little while longer so he could get him to the stream.

~oOo~

"Chi-"

"Little o-"

"-endrago-"

"-ke up-"

Merlin whined and coughed into his hand, eyes remaining closed. He wanted to sleep, his brain hurt and his lungs were _so sore_ and clogged and sleep let him forget about that. Why wouldn't the stranger let him sleep?

_Merlin…_

A new voice, a female voice, whispered to him. It startled him, because the volume was so high and the strange lady knew his name. He didn't recognize her voice.

_Wake up, Merlin…_ She whispered again, and he obliged, opening his eyes.

It was still light out, and- seeing sunlight for the first time in days- he hungrily drank it in. The Man stood above him, and Akryska sat far behind him, but no lady. Tears swam in his eyes as he realized he was still stuck with this mean man. And he still couldn't breathe, even if it was _slightly_ easier.

"Child, stand up. Drink of the stream."

Merlin couldn't take it anymore; the small amounts of water, the yelling, the directions, being called 'child'. He hated it with a fiery passion then and there, and he snapped.

"My name's MERLIN!" He shouted, then covered his mouth with wide eyes. He could talk!

His heart sank. He had just disobeyed the Man.

The Man sighed and complied, surprisingly, nodding his head and repeating the name.

"Alright, Merlin."

~oOo~

The sun rose on the trio three days later. Merlin had run several feet ahead and was crouched down on his haunches, curiously examining a magenta flower. The color had returned to his cheeks a bit and he had all but ceased coughing.

After the incident at the stream, Merlin had tiredly climbed onto Akryska's back and had sat, looking vaguely disappointed that his vision had been taken once more. He would sip dejectedly at his flask and Khalil really didn't have the heart to tell him off for wasting any. If it helped ease his raw throat, then he decided it was alright.

Two days after the stream, they had stopped at a small druid camp where Merlin received medical care and Khalil was given more provisions for their journey. It turned out that King Arthur's son had a very weak respiratory system, and he needed to be medicated with the Healer's special herbs every day if he was to survive the exertion of their trip.

Moments after swallowing the tonic, the boy's sightless eyes brightened and he sucked in a large, whooping breath. Within an hour he could stand on his own again, and an hour after that he could run around without coughing up blood. They had stayed the night at the camp, the druids more than happy to house such an honored child (Khalil got the feeling that they knew something he didn't, and were keeping it from him). The healers advised him to avoid the muting spell, as it put strain on the child's lungs, and to limit the blinding spell to avoid stressing Merlin.

Now they were back on the trail, Merlin skipping ahead much more contentedly. Whenever he walked too far and sensed the grass beneath his bare feet, he would turn to Khalil with wide, foggy eyes, silently asking for directions. He would then shout out the correct way, and they would continue forth.

~oOo~

_Smack._

"What have you done?!" Khalil shrieked angrily. Merlin was sent flying backwards, landing in a pitiful heap on the dirt.

"I- I jus' wan' to make some flowews in my na'e." He whimpered, tears rushing down his face. He didn't see what was wrong with spelling 'Merlin' out of wild dandelions. Even if he _had_ used magic.

Khalil fumed, thinking of how _lost _Caleb was now, now that this royal brat had just given them away. He stomped closer, raising his hand once more.

'_Merlin!'_ The female voice exclaimed in his head, and suddenly he was covered by a large mass of scales. Akryska roared, _loudly_, at the Man, baring her teeth and spewing out smoke in fury. She stood defensively over the young warlock.

Khalil reared back in surprise, whipping out his Blessed Stone and shoving it at her snout.

"_I am your Dragonlord, beast! You will obey me!" _Akryska shook her head, fighting the Stone's power with all her might. He was _not _a Dragonlord. He was _not _going to beat her. She bellowed with all her might into his face, singing his hair a bit. He growled in response.

This continued until the little blinded, shaking boy emerged from under Akryska's mighty chest and stood between them, clinging her strong leg for security. Both elders silenced, and Khalil waited for what the boy had to say.

"'Fusa says you can't hurt me because we family." He said, gaining more courage through the dragon. The Man froze.

"… _What?"_ He whispered.

Merlin waited for a moment, listening again, before saying, more firmly, "A'tusa says you can't hurt me, cuz I'm hewe dragonlowd." He stumbled over the foreign word. Khalil gaped at the (smirking? She _had _to be smirking) dragon. She snorted in agreement and placed her warped wing around the cloaked boy.

"Atoosa?" He asked cautiously.

"No," Merlin said over the protective wing, frustrated at his own lisp, "Ay-f- no, Ay-thoo- sah. Hewe." He pointed to the milky white dragon with the ocean blue eyes, hunched back and determined spirit.

"You cannot name her! _I _am her Dragonlord, and her name is Akryska!" The older man screamed in anger.

And then something very strange happened all at once.

First, 'Akryska' pulled all her muscles taut in response to his threatening. Then, she roared once more, twice as loud. And then, Merlin's eyes glowed brilliant gold and he stepped boldly forward, a sudden wind blowing their hair fiercely around. The Man who had kept Merlin captive for so long cowered in fear, tripping on his own cloak and landing on his butt as Merlin towered over him. His blank eyes and furious expression terrified the magician.

"**You are not my Dragonlord. Merlin is the one promised to us many thousands of years ago, sent by the spirits to save us and bring peace to our kind. He is all-powerful, more so than you will ever imagine in your magnificently small human brain. You amount to nothing, you pitiful wretch, and if it weren't for your necklace, I would tear you to pieces this moment. Merlin is under MY protection, he is MY Dragonlord, just as he has been since HE hatched me many years ago. My name is Aithusa, named so by the mighty child before you. He will restore balance to our troubled Albion and exterminate such worms as you. I am Aithusa, and I serve only the Emrys." **Merlin screamed in Dragon Tongue, although Khalil could still understand every word. He shrank into himself and clenched his eyes shut.

"M-Mercy!" Was all he said, not daring to move an inch.

A tiny, hesitant hand touched his own.

He fearfully opened his eyes, expecting to see his own death. All he saw, however, was the innocent, round face of a toddler who was wise beyond his years. Gone were the menacing eyes and the viper's tongue, gone was the angrily contorted face. In their stead was a cheeky half-grin and a proffered hand, silently asking his permission.

He nodded shakily, not being able to prevent his flinch as the cold hand reached his face, pushing back his hood and pressing against his forehead. There was a flash of gold under the boy's eyelids, his lips remains still and pursed, and after a moment, it was over. A look of understanding washed over the tiny warlock.

"I know why you took me. I know what that man did to you. I'we help you get Caweb back, cuz I know you wuve him very much." He said, and Khalil swore he could somehow see again. Just the intensity of the eye contact proved it. _He_ on the other hand, well, let's just say he felt some wetness behind his eyes.

Gratitude overwhelmed him and he got on his knees at the boy's level, taking his hands into his own.

"Merlin- Emrys, I am so sorry. I was so cruel to you, I had no right, I deserve to be punished. I am so sorry for what I've put you through. I don't deserve your kindness." He ducked his head.

Those tiny hands found his chin and he looked into the naïve eyes, those forgiving orbs that were smiling so brilliantly at him.

"I forgive you!" The child said with a big, toothy grin. Khalil was left speechless. He had basically abused, kidnapped, mistreated the mighty Emrys- and he forgave him?

His heart swelled with hope and joy and gratitude. He swept the little boy into his arms and hugged him close, crying into his mop of hair for what seemed to be a very long while. Merlin hugged him right back, always eager to give out affection to everybody who was feeling sad.

"Thank you, Emrys. Thank you." And Khalil found new hope, a new perspective on life. That skinny, weak, big-eared little child had taught him how to forgive.

He left that godforsaken clearing a new man, never intending to return.

**Aw Merlin! I just love your unending sweetness!**

**Also, I am so sorry about the last part, involving hitting Merlin. I promise, it's a one-time thing. (I'll save the REAL whumpage for when he's older ;P)**

**Just so you know, this is NOT the end of this particular incident.**

**Please leave a review!**


	20. Chapter 20: Checkmate

**I'm BAAACK! I am so, so sorry for such a long wait! Ready for a rant? If not, skip down to the end of the AN.**

**Okay, so I wanted to update- oh, how long ago was that? I don't have a calendar on me- at least two weeks ago (I think), but I had been sick with a nasty strain of the flu and was sick from school for two days. Then, on the third day, my mom made me go to school simply because I no longer had a fever and was therefore not 'contagious' anymore. But, unfortunately, I was still a bit out of it and so on top of missing two days' worth of lessons and homework, I now had one more lesson that I wasn't completely able to understand/ pay attention to, and to say I was confused and overwhelmed was an understatement. So I had to catch up on an average of three late assignments per class, around two lessons per class and then I had to re-read through textbooks multiple times just to get a better grasp on the materials because I missed the lectures. (BTW, Geometry textbooks are terrible at explaining stuff. Seriously, they just basically expect you know the stuff they're supposed to be TEACHING) So I really had no time to sit down on my laptop and type out something acceptable by my own standards. So I'm very sorry this was so late, please forgive me!**

**So as a little present, here's a special (albeit short) chapter. For the next chapter, I need to have someone to rescue Merlie. I mean, I don't want to 'ruin' it for you, but honestly, how else could he get back home without at least a LITTLE help? So, in the reviews, leave your vote: Rescue-by-Arthur, or Rescue-by-Kilgarrah? I know, I've been doing lots of votie things lately. So, do you think Arthur or Kilgarrah should come to Merlin's aid? The one with the most votes will be incorporated into the next chapter.**

**Hopefully updates will be more often now that I'm a bit more "on track" in school. Also, sorry this chapter may not be what you were hoping for, I promise they'll get better!**

**Please vote on my poll for what I should write after this fic is completed; it would be very appreciated!**

**Never Quite Lost: Checkmate**

"I see you really _do _care for your little brat here. Come, bring Emrys to me." A monotone voice rang out, sending chills down both toddler's and adult's spines. Khalil sucked in a deep breath, hoping to the Lord and all that was good that this would work, nodded subtly to Merlin, and began to yank him forward by the scruff of his neck, into the moonlit clearing. A short, stout man stood parallel to them, clad in a deep blue robe that concealed his face. At his side was a little boy, aged around four, wearing ratty robes and covered in dirt and dried tears. Thick chains were clasped tightly around his thin wrists. The boy's father internally seethed.

"I always keep my word, Grimm. I have the boy, now give Caleb back to me." He demanded from halfway across the small field, fighting to control his strong emotions. Grimm chuckled patronizingly and motioned him forward.

On cue, Merlin stumbled and fell, coughing loudly and crying. Khalil angrily growled and ducked down to roughly scoop him up, walking quickly, impatiently.

"Merlin, you ready?" The man whispered almost inaudibly into the child's ear. Merlin coughed twice and blinked three times, the signal for 'yes'. The man's fake confidence rested upon his face once more as they finally reached the ancient druid and his sobbing captive.

"Da!" Caleb exclaimed in fear as he tried- and failed- to run to his father.

"I'm here, son. It'll be alright." Khalil reassured, dropping the raven-haired boy to the ground and squeezing a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

Grimm walked forward, leaving Caleb chained to a tree, and knelt by the mighty king's son. He ran long, cold fingers down the child's pink cheek, pinched it, snorted in his face. The boy winced and tried to remain still and unresponsive, staring straight forward in feigned blindness. It was hard, though, because he could feel the way the man was looking at him- and it unnerved him. The bright light of the half-moon cast shadows on the scary man's face. Finally, seeming to be pleased by the man's offering, Grimm stood and took hold of Merlin's arm, pulling him toward the treeline and hooking him up to an enchanted chain. The boy started crying when the chains repressed his sudden flare of instinctual magic, causing him much pain. This ruined the plan!

He tried to silently convey this message, but Khalil was too engrossed in playing his role to see.

"Now, I must ask you a few questions." Grimm rasped in his old, wheezy voice. Khalil froze up in panic for a moment before putting on an emotionless mask. He nodded.

"Did you leave any trace?"

"No."

"Is the boy blinded?"

".. yes."

"Are you sure? You seem hesitant."

"Yes. Please, give Caleb back to me and we'll be on our way."

"One more thing." Grimm insisted calmly. He pulled something out of his sleeve.

"Watch out!" Merlin screamed frantically as a long rope with two glowing stones on each end emerged, unfurled, and was launched at the man. The stones weighing the ends down caused the rope to wrap itself completely around Khalil's body, squeezing tighter with each completed circle. He screamed in agony as all bloodflow was cut off and his head started to pound.

Merlin struggled as hard as could against the enchanted chains, but they burned his skin like flaming embers. Tears flew from his eyes as he tried everything he could think of to escape. Plan, needed a new plan! Needed to think!

"Da!" Caleb screamed again, feet digging into the dirt in his efforts to pull free. The older boy was bleeding from the wrists and at this rate he would soon be handless. Merlin stopped his own struggles and turned to him, whispering breathless, wheezing reassurances so the screaming would stop and he could think of a plan. Caleb eventually complied, though the slow, torturous death of his father right in front of him still elicited quite a few whimpers and sobs.

Merlin forced himself to calm, to clear his mind of the panic. His screaming from earlier had cost him much of his voice, and he could feel his scarred lungs filling with blood. He had agitated the delicate organs too much in just ten minutes. 'Uncle Gaius,' he thought sadly, 'if I get away from this, I'll never ever never complain about your medicine ever ever again.'

Various plans flitted through his head, and he hurriedly dismissed many to narrow it down to something that would work. He brightened and his pupils seemed to constrict as he came to a conclusion.

Finally, he cupped his restrained hands to his mouth and shrieked as loudly and as wildly as his quickly filling lungs would allow.

**What'll happen next? What's his new plan?**

**I am so sorry if this is crappy, but I really need to get this up. Anyways, reminder, leave a review saying whether you think Arthur or Kilgarrah should be the one to come to Merlin's rescue next chapter. Thank you all so much for your constant support and understanding!**

**-Violet**


	21. Chapter 21: Mighty

**Alright, of the several reviews I got, the results are:**

**Rescue-by-Arthur- 0**

**Resue-by-Kilgarrah- 5**

**Thank you so much to those who reviewed!**

**Also, to **_**Mirrors**_**: I just now got your review and I must say, it made me smile! **** Yeah, when I re-read through the story and found that, I got pretty annoyed with it too. I had been thinking 'brown eyes with unique depth' and instead typed 'blue eyes unique to two'. Sorry about that! I would go back and change it, but I'm afraid of completely screwing this up, so I'll do this instead…**

**ATTENTION READERS: Yes, I know I've been saying Hunith has brown eyes, and I'm sure some of you may be wondering why I gave her blue eyes a few chapters in, but it was a mess-up. She really has brown eyes, very unique ones that she's easily identified by. Sorry for any confusion.**

**To **_**Mirrors**_**, continued: I'm very glad that you're enjoying this story so far, and I hope I meet your expectations!**

**Disclaimer: See all previous chapters.**

**Never Quite Lost: Mighty**

_Various plans flitted through his head, and he hurriedly dismissed many to narrow it down to something that would work. He brightened and his pupils seemed to constrict as he came to a conclusion._

_Finally, he cupped his restrained hands to his mouth and shrieked as loudly and as wildly as his quickly filling lungs would allow._

Merlin roared at the sky, savagely, uncontrollably. All surrounding creatures paused their activities in surprise.

"**O drakon, fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro!" **He cried in dragon-speak. Even with a gap in his teeth and a relentless lisp, the words came out untainted by his uncoordinated tongue in perfect enunciation. Grimm, belatedly, realized what on earth the child was doing and tried to stop him-in vain- before he finished the summons. His eyes glowed pure golden and he no longer needed his hands to help amplify his voice; it echoed throughout the land.

By the time the tottering old man made it back to where the warlock was chained, the boy had fallen unconscious, blood gushing from his raw, butchered wrists and a pile of scar tissue on the ground, where he had coughed it up. But Grimm was too late; the dragon was on its way.

~oOo~

Kilgarrah's head snapped up, ears swiveling. A dragonlord's call had summoned him forth, something he felt the need, the burning _need_, to obey. With surprising, sinewy grace, he leapt up, took to the sky and soared to where Emrys had called him. His heart felt whole again, the summons having repaired his severed bond. In joy, although knowing his Lord was calling him to battle, he roared fiercely to the passing clouds, splitting the skies with his agile, serpentine movements. His cry bounced off the ground and trees far below and sprang right back to him.

A clearing approached to the right and he made a sharp turn, turning up piles of grass and chunks of dirt as his claws dug into the solid earth. He brought his mighty head up, sniffing the air and snorting in satisfaction at the _fear _he sensed. His advanced hearing- thousands of times more evolved than humans'- picked up every twitch made, heard every muscle sliding against another. He heard the _thump-_thump, _thump-_thump of one heart, one calm heart, and three hearts in various degrees of _thumpthumpthumpthumpthump._ He heard the strangled respiration of a puny man, struggling against strong magical bondage, the sobs of a child and the fearful shouts of an elderly man. Distractedly, he stuck out a single claw and plucked at the enchanted rope, slicing it easily and sending the strangled human to the ground, gasping for breath and verging on unconsciousness. When the druid attempted to attack him with a rather weak spell, he placed his giant, scaly tail on the fat man and knocked him down, his appendage used to pin the sorcerer in place.

_Merlin, where are you?_ He sent out through their bond. He gained no reply from his Dragonlord. He crept closer, eying the humans up and down until his gaze settled upon a young raven-haired toddler, unconscious, and chained to a tree. His heart trilled when he realized that this was _Merlin,_ and he was _alive._

And… what he had said, all those years ago, had come to pass.

Why hadn't he thought about that? Why had he spent almost three years mourning and wailing his soliloquy to the skies when he himself had reassured a young mother not too long ago- to a dragon at least- of this very circumstance? Maybe… maybe he had more emotional attachment to the boy than he sometimes claimed. Maybe emotions _can _control even a being as powerful as himself?

Anger flared within him as he saw the enchanted chains threatening to slice the child's hands right off; summoning help must have taken a lot of courage- and pain. Lots of pain.

_The one who smells of overflowing vacuoles is not our ally.*_

Kilgarrah started, leaning closer and finally noticing the milky white dragon under the cover of the trees, clawing furiously at the chains around the second human child, trying to free him without harming the child himself. She snorted in frustration as he continued to scream and avoid her.

_It has been a while, Young One._ He said, internally grinning at her deliberate word choices. But the time for joking was later. _Why do you not free Merlin?_ He inquired, rather worriedly.

She continued trying to corner the boy to hold him down, mentally swearing and groaning.

_Gah! Stupid meat-hatchling!** … Emrys ordered me to free young Caleb first, and only THEN could I free young Dragonlord himself. Ag! Damned devolved, wingless, fr-_

_Aithusa, slice through the length of the chain, not the segment around the boy's body. I shall deal with the large one, you continue your task._

Aithusa muttered another curse and continued frustratedly. Kilgarrah turned his neck, settling his large head on the ground next to the squirming druid. He snorted right on him, a large, moist huff of warm air that rattled him further. He reminded the old dragon of a beetle stuck upon its back.

"Why must you cause my young Master trouble, you miserable oaf?" He asked, almost tiredly. The man froze in fear. Kilgarrah could hear his heart triple its speed.

Before the man could answer with his vile, viperous lips, the Great Dragon inched forward and almost nonchalantly encased the tiny upper body in his great jaws, quickly chomping down and immediately tasting warm, coppery blood. The several pints' worth barely wet his tongue, yet it made him shiver anyway. Spitting out the top half of the man's body, he raised his head once more. _The Law of the Drakon has been upheld._

Not once glancing back, he walked up to where his young niece was still struggling with the ordinary chains and sighed. Kilgarrah took one talon, sliced through the first chain in one swift movement, and used his teeth to remove the enchanted ones from his Lord. Aithusa huffed.

_Young Merlin has lost too much blood. I must return him to Camelot. You guard these two until the father wakes up and can take his son home; they are both in good health._ With few parting words, Kilgarrah gently scooped the tiny boy into his claws and transferred him to the base of his long neck, where he lay carefully wedged between two of the dragon's spines. He then took to the sky, navigating his way to the mighty kingdom of Camelot.

~oOo~

_P'ease… 'top… _Merlin suddenly asked, using one weak and bloody arm to limply point to the forest floor below. Kilgarrah, craning his neck to see, obliged, and landed with a _swoop_ in the nearest clearing, sniffing the air. They had flown for almost half an hour.

His keen ears picked up voices a few feet away. He recognized the smell of the man who had ridden once on his back, inches from death, to be later saved by his warlock companion.

"Greetings, King Arthur. I come with good intention." He boomed to the figures hiding amongst the trees. There was a gasp of recognition and the sound of a sword being sheathed. The blonde king himself walked quickly out into the clearing, covered in sweat and dirt. The rest of his knights stood close by, but were much warier of the scaly beast.

"You are Kilgarrah, the Great Dragon, are you not?" Arthur confirmed. Kilgarrah bowed his head once. "And Merlin is your Dragonlord, correct?" A grunt of agreement. "… Do you know where we may find him? He has been gone almost a fortnight, and we have searched relentlessly. Can you track him somehow?" He almost sounded of complete desperation. The dragon shook his head, pitying the now crestfallen king.

"I cannot track him down for you, because I can do the next best thing." He said in his favored cryptic way. Arthur curiously looked up at him, urging him with his eyes to continue. Kilgarrah hunched his back and laid out his wing in a twisting formation, placing his foot at the bottom. And, to the mens' astonishment, a tiny, robed body came tumbling down the leathery slide, landing right in the gentle hand**(?) **and lying still. The dragon offered him to his father, who- in his utter shock- dropped his shield and ran forward, shouting the child's name many times as he took him in his arms. He almost laughed in hysterical happiness.

"He is unconscious, but that is due to bloodloss. He should recover well enough if he gets medical attention right away. Come, get on my back and I shall take you back to Camelot." He explained, offering his wing to help them mount him. Arthur looked hesitant while the others looked plain mortified.

When the boy- who had fallen unconscious shortly after his sudden finding of Arthur- let out a pained whimper, Arthur's face set in determination.

"You men shall ride the horses back to the city. I must get Merlin home swiftly." And with a nod to each knight, he quickly scaled the beast's wing and adjusted his son to lay in his arms, securely.

As they flew, Kilgarrah explained everything to Arthur, including Aithusa's account of Merlin's weeks in captivity and how he was rescued. He was reassured that Caleb and his father would be fine. He was calmed from his anger when he learned what had happened to Grimm in consequence of his actions. He even came close to vomiting a few times.

"Can you not heal Merlin yourself?" He asked out of the blue. Kilgarrah shook his head sadly, navigating his way through a thick cluster of low-hanging clouds.

"No, because those wounds were inflicted by a cursed chain. I cannot assist in that manner." Arthur paused for a moment, pulling the tiny toddler close to him, cherishing the feeling of the little body against his chest once more; he fit in his arms perfectly.

"Thank you, mighty Kilgarrah. You have made my family whole once more."

Kilgarrah smiled, though the king couldn't see it.

_Yes, your grace, and my family has been restored as well. _He thought with a lightened heart.

~oOo~

"Merlin!" Gwen shouted as she saw her husband slide down the dragon's wing with a bundle in his arms; the dragon and Arthur exchanged nods and the giant beast flew away. She ran forward, embracing the man with the baby held between them. He briefly outlined what was going on, and she nodded, teary-eyed. She planted a kiss on his pale, cold forehead and hugged them both close, knowing that if they ever separated again, her heart might break.

~oOo~

"Mamaí! Ní chreideann tú an eachtra a bhí agam! Rinne mé cara Dragon ainmnithe Afusa agus rinne mé cara daonna ainmnithe Khalil agus a kid ainmnithe Caleb cé Caleb aosta ná mé, agus muid riamh a labhair i ndáiríre ach sin ceart go leor toisc nach bhfuil go leor de mo chairde a fhios agam gur tháinig maith agus ansin Kagrah agus shábháil dom agus rode mé a dhroim agus flied muid, díreach cosúil le éin! Agus fuair Arfur chun marcaíocht freisin, agus bhí sé spraoi (cé go raibh mé i mo chodladh ar a lán de) agus Gaius thug dom bindealáin agus mo leigheas (Oh, agus mé nach riamh ag iarraidh a riamh é a chur arís, mar is gá liom é a lán) agus anois is féidir liom a thabhairt duit mo squeeze mór! Chaill mé tú mam! Tá mé ceart go leor! Grá agat!" Merlin babbled on and on as he was scooped into Hunith's waiting arms and hugged desperately. He planted a big kiss on her lip and wrapped his long arms around her neck, squeezing tightly in his own special hug. She sobbed tears of sweet joy, holding her baby so close, breathing in his familiar scent and rubbing a hand on his back, promising herself to always protect him, even if it killed her.

To think, she had almost lost this cheerful little ray of golden sunlight for the second time in her life.

**Yaaassss! Happy ending! Sorry it was so rushed, I literally spent over two hours typing this out, and it is currently very late at night, so I needed to wrap it up. I hope it still meets your standards, and I promise more cuteness is ahead.**

***I just had a biology test, so this was a kind of nonsensical joke about cell structure. The vacuoles of our cells are the storage centers, keeping water and other needed materials for whenever they're needed. Overflowing vacuoles, as in he has too much _whatever_ in him. She was basically saying, in modern-day speak: kill the fatty.**

****I know, I know, dragons are hatchlings and are made of meat too. What I meant is that dragons hatch from eggs while humans 'hatch' from flesh, sorta.**

**(?) I have no idea what the hell to call his hand-feet-claw thingies. I mean, he uses them as hands, but they're also his feet, but they also have long, talon-y nails. Confuzzling.**

**Translation: Mommy! You won't believe the adventure I had! I made a dragon friend named Afusa and I made a human friend named Khalil and his kid named Caleb though Caleb's older than me and we never actually talked but that's okay because lots of my friends don't know me that good and then Kagrah came and saved me and I rode his back and we flied, just like birds! And Arfur got to ride too, and it was fun (though I was asleep for a lot of it) and Gaius gave me bandages and my medicine (oh, and I never don't want to never take it again, because I need it a lot) and now I can give you my big squeeze! I missed you mommy! I'm okay! Love you!**

**Daw! He's so cute, even to me, the one who writes him like that! (Is that patting myself on the back, or what?)**

**Also, please please PLEASE vote on my poll, I am closing it by next Friday and I really would appreciate your input!**

**Thank you all so much for your patience!**

**-Violet**


	22. Chapter 22: Belated

**Guess what ya'll are getting… eventually…? That's right: ANOTHER MERLIN STORY! Thank you so much to all who voted on my poll, and to all my faithful readers/reviewers/etc. **

**Now, I think I'll make it a more good-natured short story instead of a really lengthy one, but we'll see how this one turns out first.**

**I am SO SORRY this is short, but I have other things in mind and needed to get this outta the way. Don't worry, I have BIG PLANS for this story! **

**Here is some well-needed (in my opinion) Merlin-Gwaine bro-ness! I just love these two! Cuteness lies ahead; ye be warned. **

**Merlin is a little over 3 years old.**

**Never Quite Lost: Belated**

Gwaine felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. So terrible, in fact, that he could hardly find it in him to walk any faster than a depressed trudge. His horse whinnied in annoyance at his slow leading pace, but he paid it no mind. They were close to the city now, and he just didn't feel too rushed to arrive. He could practically taste the pity the other knights were aiming at his back.

He had let Merlin get taken. His sole job had been to bring Merlin safely to his birthday feast, and he had screwed it up. He had glimpsed poor little Merlin's body as he was handed to his father, he had seen the dried blood staining his sweet, pale wrists and running down his tiny chin. He had seen the shivers wracking his cold, thinly-clothed body. And he knew deep down that he was the only reason they were there. He honestly didn't deserve forgiveness from Merlin, his king and queen; any of them.

He was jerked from his hatred-filled thoughts with the realization that they were now walking on cobblestone; they had officially entered the city limits. The bustling peasants all made way for the knights as they passed, sharing looks of confusion at the somber aura surrounding the lead. None were too eager to remain in his path.

"Did they fail?" Came a murmur from a young man to their left, who was sharing a look with an elderly woman. Gwaine whipped to face him, teeth clenched and eyes blazing.

"It's none of your _goddamn _business, you insolent ass!" He screamed in the young man's tan face, spittle flying from his lips. He didn't care; he was too overwhelmed with emotion to do anything rational. The other knights hurriedly led him away, Leon apparently pausing to apologize to the shocked peasant.

"Sir Gwaine, might I remind you of our duties to _serve and protect_ the citizens of Camelot, not _insult_ them?" Lancelot admonished tiredly as they marched to the stables, handing their steeds to the (_drunk?_) stable boy. He accepted the reins with a glazed smile and an airy giggle, stumbling away with the obviously confused horses in tow.

Gwaine growled and turned his back on his brothers-in-arms, cursing in Gaelic as he stomped away. He didn't even bother checking in with the king and queen, his head cloudy and his vision blurry; he hadn't slept in over five days. He staggered into his chambers, barely managed to strip off his armor, and collapsed onto his bed, asleep within seconds.

~oOo~

When he awoke, it was to a raging headache and a monster appetite swirling in his stomach. The lights were low and only a few candles were alight; a glance at the stained windows proved it was indeed after sunset. He was in a different room than the one he had fallen asleep in, and there seemed to be other occupants as well; he heard shuffling to his left, where several of the candles were.

"Is he asleep?" Came a whispered, raspy voice. _Gaius._

"Almost; he keeps waking himself up to ask on _his_ condition." Was Hunith's reply. Gwaine assumed he was being pointed to.

"Mamaí? An bhfuil shuí sé go fóill?" Came a sleepy voice, as if on cue, and the two adults seemed to shift a little to surround little Merlin. Hunith whispered something in reply, Merlin sighed wearily, and moments later his breaths finally evened out in sleep.

Gwaine, still exhausted and able to ignore his head and stomach, rolled over tiredly and forced himself back into sleep. He would worry about all this _later._

~oOo~

"Sir Gwaine," Came Gaius' voice once again. Gwaine moaned, rolling over to try and fall back into sweet unconsciousness. He froze when he felt a wet spot right beneath his hip. A _warm_ wet spot.

He shot up, babbling like an idiot as he looked around nervously; he could _not_ have soiled his bed, could he? Sure, he may have had issues with it in the past, but had soon enough outgrown it at seven years old. To lapse nearly twenty years later? Maybe Gaius had given him something, or-

"Sir Gwaine, I'm terribly sorry to wake you, but you _must_ let me clean up Merlin's mess." He stopped mumbling, blinked owlishly. _Merlin's mess?_ He looked around; Merlin was nowhere in sight. He, with his head pounding and stomach growling, was the only occupant other than Gaius.

Still confused, he did as told and shifted off the main cot in Gaius' chambers (Gaius himself had moved his own bed into Merlin's old room, leaving two newer beds in the main room) and onto a nearby bench, wincing at his achy joints.

"H-how did I get here?" He asked as the crotchety old man ripped the soiled sheets from the frame and quickly replaced it with a clean one.

"You were thrashing in your sleep; you caught a minor cold and had a fever. Sir Percival carried you here." Ah. That made some sense. Gwaine winced, feeling sheepish.

An apple was thrown at him, and he just barely managed to catch it; Gaius smirked at his surprised expression. The old man continued with the sheets; Gwaine would have helped, but his head was spinning too much. He instead settled for taking a large bite from the fruit, chewing slowly and methodically. It tasted good, he decided, and swallowed.

He barely had enough time to lunge for a nearby water bucket before the apple- and a variety of other substances- came back up to meet him. He vomited into the foamy water for several minutes, the stream never seeming to cease until he started dry heaving. That was when Gaius intervened, pulling him back to sit on his shaky knees and forcing a tonic down his sore throat. He gagged on it, but forced the medicine to stay down as best he could.

He vaguely recognized the fact that he was being led back to the cot, didn't fight the hands forcing him to lie down and covering him with a warm blanket. A clean bucket was placed on a stool, which was then moved next to his pillow. He sighed, thankful that he no longer felt the need to vomit; he was still starving, though, and his head and stomach were throbbing relentlessly.

"Gwaine, you must get your rest. You should start to feel better soon, but no leaving that cot for at least five hours." Gaius ordered, his eyebrow raised to show he would take no objections. Gwaine easily complied, already feeling drowsy once more.

~oOo~

"APPLE-JEES!" Came an exclamation from the doorway. Gwaine, hardly asleep, shot up in the bed, holding his head as the sudden movement brought on some serious vertigo. There was a tiny _pitter-patter_ing of little feet as they ran right at him; he flinched away. He wasn't ready to face Merlin yet; especially not in the state he was in!

"G'aine? Apple-jees!" Came the high-pitched voice from right next to him. Gwaine turned.

Merlin stood by the side of the bed, finger clutching at the wooden pole that held the cushioning in place. The shorty could hardly see over the edge, though, and was standing on his tippy-toes. His bright blue eyes were slightly glazed with fever, and his cheeks were flushed bright pink, but there was a fair-sized charming smile on his face, dimples and all. His hair, black as a crow's wing, was dripping wet and curlier than usual, and the boy smelled of soaps.

Gwaine paused for a moment, studying. Studying the apparent happiness the boy felt at seeing him, the underlying upset, and the fact that what the boy was saying made absolutely no sense. Julia stepped forward from her watchful spot in the corner of the room, whispered something in her baby brother's ear, and then backed up again to give them both some space. Ever since their admittedly tear-jerking reunion, Merlin had gained a bodyguard in the form of his overprotective sister. No one around the castle saw him without her close by.

Merlin thought on her reminder with a slight scowl on his chubby face. Then, he brightened.

"Ah-apole-o-guys." He stuttered out carefully, a proud look dawning on his countenance. Gwaine, still incredibly confused, cocked his head.

"Eh?" Merlin turned back to his sister, twisting in place. He spread his arms in exasperation, as if saying 'seriously? _Now_ what should I do?' Julia returned the gesture with equal zeal, telling him to try again, they had worked on this.

With a beet-red face from all the frustrating miscommunications, Merlin turned back around, formally clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the tips of his toes.

"Uh-pawl-uh-cheese." And then, knowing he got it wrong, Merlin stuck his tongue out at his sister and said clearly, "Leithscéalta." Gwaine understood what he was trying to say now, and how the boy could pronounce the complex word in Gaelic and yet not in English was something he would never understand. He nodded in acknowledgement, but held up a hand.

"Merlin why are you apologizing?" He asked. After all, it was _he _who should be giving the apologies. Merlin stared down at his feet and shuffled them in embarrassment.

"F'r havin a assident on youwe bed." He muttered, blushing brighter underneath the feverish scarlet. Gwaine had to think back a little to remember what Gaius had earlier said, then smiled understandingly.

"Merlin, I ain't mad about that." He reassured, hesitantly reaching out to the boy. When Merlin saw the gesture, it was all the invitation he needed; he let out an eager giggle and ran into the larger man's arms, allowing himself to be lifted so that he was sitting right next to Gwaine on the cot, their legs hanging off the side and kicking in sync. "Now, what exactly happened?"

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but Gaius- who was just walking in, medical kit in hand- beat him to it.

"The lad decided that he was too lonely, being a full two feet from you and all." He raised his infamous brow towards the shyly grinning boy, "So he snuck into your bed in the middle of the night. That was when he had an accident, and Hunith took Merlin to bathe."

"Wait, how long have I been here?" Gwaine inquired.

"About two days." He blanched, as did Merlin. Of course, the boy had been there longer, but to him it still sounded like a long time.

"And… how long has little Merlie been here, exactly?" He asked, internally preparing for the wave of guilt he was sure to drown in. Gaius answered calmly,

"Only three days. You arrived a day after they did, actually, and the first day he was only here so I could be sure his wounds were cared for. Then he had to take his tonic, _twice_, and only a few hours after you were brought here did we realize he was in the throes of a fever not unlike your own. You both have been in a mild quarantine for over twenty-four hours."

"Hey! I annot a cor-in-teen!" Merlin excalimed, pushing his long bangs from his eyes. No one answered him, other things on their minds at the moment.

~oOo~

The rest of the day was spent mostly in boredom-powered activities, seeing as the two sickies couldn't leave Gaius' chambers for the next two days. Merlin had recommended several games, such as Dragons and even something called 'Run from the Plague', but Gwaine was in no mood to be running around. He merely lay beside Merlin- who refused to remove himself from beside the knight- and talked about random things whilst staring wistfully at the ceiling.

That sweet little voice made him smile:

"G'aine? Where do babies come from?"

"G'aine? Wassa unicown?"

"G'aine? How owd _are_ you?"

"G'aine? How do you spell *makes a raspberry noise in Gwaine's face, spitting on him in the process*?"

And several times, at Merlin's request, they had lengthy conversations in Gaelic. Merlin only wanted it to annoy his sister, and boy was it working. After half an hour of her asking suspiciously if they spoke of her and receiving only mischievious glances in return, she finally sighed and stormed out. Merlin turned to Gwaine.

"And we were only talking about pumpkin sweets." He giggled. The knight relished the sound, that until four days ago, he had almost believed he would never hear again.

"Ah, Merlin?" He asked, sitting up on his elbow. The boy followed his example and sat up, turning his bright blue, intelligent gaze upon his surrogate big brother. Gwaine swallowed heavily, feeling his fear bubbling up within him.

_Damn. Coward, much? Get it together, Gwaine._

"I wanted to apologize for what happened two weeks ago." _Better. Explain, idiot! He's three years old! _"You know, when I messed with ya in the hall right before he… took ya."_ Smooth going, dufus. You just had to phrase that to bring the most pain, didntcha? _Merlin's eyes widened in understanding, and he placed his tiny hand on Gwaine's arm.

"Póg sé níos fearr." He commanded, holding out one scabbed wrist, the raw skin turned a sickly yellow. Gwaine, confused at the intensity of the boy's gaze, did as told and pecked his lips against the sore skin. Merlin's eyes glowed bright golden, and the exact patch of injured flesh that the man's lips had touched glowed as well. Within seconds, the spot was totally healed. Merlin beamed at him, yet didn't heal any of the other injuries wrapping around the rest of his wrist.

Without giving the man a moment to ask, the tiny warlock jumped up and wrapped his arms around Gwaine's neck. "Your apple-jee is assepted." He whispered lispingly into the knight's ear, his hot breath tickling his sideburns.

Gwaine beamed and hugged him right back.

**Hey all! I'm back, again! :/**

**Thank you so much to everybody who has supported me!**

**You know what I realized? Okay, so I'm listening to some music as I type this chapter, and I realize that every song and/or song's title was totally relevant to the story! Wanna know what the songs were?**

**The Phoenix (you know, the bird that is reborn as a baby after it dies?)**

**Centuries (you know, how long Merlin is destined to live AND be remembered?)**

**And Immortals. (You know, what Merlin is?) All of these by Fall-Out Boy. Now, I don't usually go for that type of music, but these songs were totally catchy and awesome and not exactly about romance! And holy crap! I never even thought of phoenixes while writing this story! Mind= blown.**

**I wonder if this coincidence is a sign?**

**Whoa, man, this is deep.**

**Also, I know his speech impediment is inconsistent, like he'll be lisping one moment and clearly speaking the next, but that's because he's improving, and only lapses into it sometimes without thinking about it.**

**Please R&amp;R and leave any suggestions for future chapters! Thank you!**

**Translations:**

**Mommy? Is he awake yet?**

**Apologies.**

**Kiss it better.**


	23. Chapter 23: Argumentative

**Oh. My. Glob.**

**I am SO sorry this has taken forever. I really have no excuses.**

**And now, here's the shortest chapter I'll probably ever write!**

**Ready?**

**Set.**

**Go!**

**Never Quite Lost: Argumentative**

"How dare you say such a thing, you blasphemous toad!"

"I'm sorry, but iss true." Damn those puppy dog eyes.

"Merlin, you can be executed for speaking in such a way towards your _king._"

"Yeah, but iss true!"

"_Mer_lin! Cease your sassing and apologize!"

"No."

"Argh! LEON! Take this traitor to the dungeons!"

"Um, sire, what exactly is his crime? He's four years old."

"HE IS A BLASPHEMOUS NINCOMPOOP!"

"What did he say?"

"It's not important! I am your king and you will do as I command. Take. Him. To. The. Dun. Geons."

"… Sire, I honestly don't think I can do it."

"_What?_"

"Well, I mean, look at those eyes! How can you stay so furious at that little face?"

"Sir Leon, you have gone soft. Unbelievable! What has happened to my fearsome, iron-hearted knights?"

"Well, don't yell at 'im! Lancelot 'ere's the baby expert. HE should be the one to blame."

"Gwaine, for the damn near millionth time, I am NOT-"

"And what, _exactly_, am I to blame on Sir Lancelot, hmm?"

"Well, it's obviously 'IS fault that little Merlin has no sense of shame."

"-Oh, because _I'm _the one who curses like a sailor! That's _hilarious_, Gwaine."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE WE ARGUING ABOUT?"

"Percival, stay out of this!"

"We are having a serious debate here!"

"Yeah, I- wait, what _are _we debating?"

"We were discussing a suitable punishment for Merlin."

"Ah, yes. '_Parenting._'"

"What exactly was the little fart's crime?"

Cue a cheeky smile from aforementioned fart.

"I said something bad."

Now all the knights' jaws were hanging open.

"Yeah, and Hell just froze over. What _really_ happened?"

"I _told_ you. I said somethin' bad about His Pratness, a'd he threw a pouty fit."

"Don't you stick your tongue out at me, Merlin Pendragon!"

"… Since when do I have a last name?"

"Um, well… since I gave you one. And what I say, goes."

"Oh... alright. Why noh'?"

"See, how can you stay angry at that adorable little face? And that accent! It's freaking _precious!_"

"Do not make me chain your leg to a bull's testicles."

"… Arthur, maybe you should go take a nap. Your insane side is starting to show."

"Do not speak that way to your _king_, Gwaine!"

"Well I-"

"SHUH-UT UP!"

"What?"

"Stop arguing over something that makes no sense! I can't even tell _who's_ saying _what_ anymore!"

"Seriously, Your Highness, what the hell did he say that was _so_ bad?"

"… I said he's gassy."

"Wait… are you telling me that all of this fighting is because YOU called HIM gassy? REALLY?"

"Hey, it's noh' my fault that it's true! He _is _gassy!"

"_Mer_lin!"

**Sooo…. Ya'll may be disappointed with this chapter, and I wouldn't really blame ya. But, my evil muse, Lyn, has taken up good muse Ace's role while she goes on vacation. So, voila.**

**Yes, I did skip forward almost a year. I may have several time jumps just to avoid a boringly long fic. Apple-jees.**

**Hope it was acceptable!**

**R&amp;R!**


	24. Chapter 24: We Meet Again

**Never Quite Lost: We Meet Again**

"Wake up, Merlie." Julia sighed, once more shaking her baby brother awake. He whined and rolled over, cocooning himself further in the sheets. "Do you want to be late for your first day of education?"

"Yes." Came the muffled reply. The fourteen-year-old threw her hands in the air in frustration, deciding to just head to Gaius's chambers already and leave Merlin to Hunith.

Merlin exhaled happily and fell back asleep.

"_Mer_lin!" His mother exclaimed two minutes later, hurriedly entering the boy's room and approaching his tiny bed. He jumped awake, breathing heavily.

"Mamai! Don' do that!" He shouted back, eyes wide and perspiration dotting his furrowed brow. She smiled her charming smile and sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his small shoulders, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

"I only do it for your eternal benefit, my ever-beloved son." He looked up to meet her eyes, one brow raised in a hilarious imitation of Gaius.

"Layin' it on a bit thick, arentcha?" He asked suspiciously. "You _really_ want me to go to this 'class', dontcha?" He stated. At her smile, he lowered his head. "But mamai, can't I just keep doing chores with you? I like cooking! Or, or, maybe I could double my archery practice? Pleaaseee?" He finagled, turning dewy blue eyes to her once more. While it was quite precious, she stood firm.

"Nope, you are getting an education whether you like it or not!" She declared, sweeping him from his tangle of sheets and carrying him- despite his protests that he could walk perfectly fine- to his wardrobe, letting him choose his clothes for the day.

In all honesty, Hunith thought as she helped the frustrated young warlock pull the red shirt over his head, she was so adamant on his getting an education because it was a wonderful opportunity- one he never got back in Ealdor. Hunith had been forced to take time off from assisting in the harvest because no other villagers dared to educate the 'weird boy with no father'. Even with her teachings, he had never been given the true access to knowledge he so deserved.

"But _mamai_," he whined between buttoning his pant buttons, "George is so _boring_. And he thinks jokes about _brass_ are _funny_." Ah, yes, Arthur's former- and now current, seeing as Merlin was no longer old enough- servant. Hunith didn't envy her son in that regard. The man had been eager to obey his king's requests to educate the small boy, seeing as he was a very highly educated individual, but the Gaelic woman also suspected Arthur really wanted to be rid of the annoyingly perfect servant for a few hours.

"Son, just ignore the jokes, then. You need an education, and you're getting one." She tied the blue neckerchief around his neck loosely, brushed his clothes off, and ran her fingers through his hair. He drooped his head, a melancholy sigh escaping his lips.

Hunith ignored her son's dramatic display and ushered him out the door.

**~Love at first sight only be possible to those who know where to look~**

Merlin was bored. Like, extreeeeeemly bored. Bored enough, in fact, that he _wished_ he could find the endless metal and/or common mineral jokes humorous. He propped his head up on his arm and stared wistfully out the open window, wishing to be among those who worked. At least _they_ didn't get bored. They always had something to do.

"And here Peter Abelard states- Merlin! Are you paying attention?" The warlock jumped in his seat, turning to look at his replacement as a servant. (Not that he knew about _that, _of course.) He bit his lip anxiously, blinked sluggishly, shook his head sheepishly. George sighed in exasperation, this having been the fourth time in fifteen minutes that the boy had zoned out on him. What was wrong with him?

A warm summer's breeze drifted into the stuffy room, ruffling the younger's long hair delicately, making the boy smile in contentment. He closed his eyes and leaned his face towards the soothing wind.

Even George, clueless George, could tell that today was too beautiful for something as boring as literature to keep his attention. The longing to go outside was thick in the air. He sighed again, this time in resignation.

"Your lessons are done for today, lad. Go outside." He said primly, smiling inside when Merlin's head snapped up and a look of pure excitement flooded his face. The boy jumped happily from his seat and skipped from the room, a shouted "Bye George!" wafting back through the doorway moments later.

Once he was out in the bustling courtyard, Merlin immediately went for the marketplace, where all the fun stuff could be found. Children around his age always helped their parents with the stalls, and the parents were usually nice enough to let their children leave for a bit to play with him. Today Kelsi, Giovanni, Taylor and Endrick were all eagerly available to play, and soon they had a pretty magnificent game of stone-hopping going. Endrick was ahead by three stones, followed by Giovanni, Taylor, and Kelsi, and Merlin was behind _them_ by seven stones, due to his shorter legs. He jumped from one paved stone to the next, trying fruitlessly to catch up with their larger strides. Man, these stones were _huge_, as were the gaps between them filled with dried mortar.

He distractedly wiped the thick layer of sweat from his brow, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were narrowed with intense concentration. He took a few moments to get himself ready, then jumped for all he was worth.

His feet suddenly slid backwards, and his face was heading straight for the paved stone ground.

"Woah! Wachout!" Merlin felt some invisible force grab his arm tightly, countering the gravitational pull towards the ground and pulling him upright. Was he dead? Or was this invisible force his guardian angel?

A tiny hand- and that was tiny compared to _his_ little mitts- touched his face gently, too course and chilled to be a figment of his imagination. Maybe angels were just really small? Maybe that's how they avoid people getting scared of them, he realized; by taking a smaller form than that of the person they saved.

He breathed heavily, finding that a beautiful scent wafted into his nostrils. He liked the way his angel smelled.

Strawberries.

"Are you alright?" Came a sweet, harmonic little voice that was certainly fit for an angel. Merlin became enraptured in the sound as it played back over and over in his head. He _liked_ the sound. He liked it a lot. His head nodded ever so slightly, barely responding to the concerned question.

"Scuse me, a-are you blind?" The voice asked, its melody so entrancing that the boy almost missed the actual question. His brow furrowed.

"What?" There was a giggle from his invisible savior.

"Well, it's just… You haven't opened your eyes."

Ah. That _would_ explain the invisible bit. Blushing, the warlock peeled open his eyes, blinking rapidly until they adjusted to the light.

He found himself speechless as he gazed upon his angel, the heat in his cheeks and ears rising with every passing second.

It was a little girl, the same age as him, a good two inches shorter than him and maybe ten pounds lighter. Her skin was fair, but held the tint of one constantly outside. Her lips were pale and her cheeks were slightly rosy. A very fine layer of dirt coated most of her revealed skin. Her small head was topped with a rat's nest of shiny black hair, pulled back with a tan neckerchief. Her eyes were a warm, kind brown that always looked happy and made her whole face light up. She wore a plain brown dress with several patches and a few small rips and tears. She wore no shoes.

To Merlin, she was absolutely perfect. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"Hi." He choked out, smiling goofily. She smiled back with genuine politeness. Her cheeks seemed redder now, too. "M'name's Merlin." He said. She nodded. Before she could supply her name, he blurted out, "Are you an angel?" Her blush deepened, and he imagined his did the same. She folded her hands in front of her and swayed shyly.

"N-no.. I don't think so…" She replied. Merlin scolded himself for being such an idiot. Before he could mutter out some excuse, though, she had taken a step forward and stood on her toes so they were nose-to-nose, placing her small hands on his wrists to help stay balanced at his height. Her gaze was intense, exploring his eyes with such a desperate scrutiny that he felt the urgent need to turn away. But he couldn't find it in himself to do it.

The hustle and bustle of the other children playing a new game and the adults trading ingredients and goods blurred and became distant as their eyes locked. A short image, lasting maybe five seconds, flashed through the warlock's head.

A dark water, a thin form under the surface, then another form swooping from the sky into the watery depths, its path in the shape of a U, grabbing hands with the slim form and pulling it up too, both exiting the dark water and flying up, breaking apart midair and heading in opposite directions.

Merlin gasped as the vision ended, toppling back onto his butt, the little girl landing next to him with eyes just as wide. Something told him that she had seen the same thing.

"Do you have magic?" She asked timidly. He nodded, equally timid.

"D-do you?" She bit her lip and nodded slowly.

"Yes, sort of. I'm a druid. My parents brought me here to get some food for our camp." _Her parents should be dead_, crossed through the boy's mind, horrifying him as he quickly dispelled it. Still, it was a firm feeling in his gut, and he felt strange thinking that this girl had parents.

"I think you're an angel. You're my water angel." He said, not being able to stop his mouth, not knowing what the words meant himself. He just felt the need to say it.

She giggled, placing a small hand over her petite mouth, and her laughter was infectious. Merlin laughed alongside her, his hand slowly moving along the ground to rest atop her dirtier one.

Just as they were about to continue speaking, however, a female voice called out, "Mysti, time to go!" Merlin felt confused when the girl looked up, frowned and stood, helping him do the same. She looked at him apologetically and turned to leave.

"Coming, mother!" She replied. However, before she left, she turned back around, her skirt flying in the wind, and ran back to a disappointed Merlin. He perked up when she came to him.

There was a red blush completely covering her cheeks as she launched herself at him, placing a big, slobbery kiss on his cheek and then starting back towards her mother, giggling.

Merlin was in a daze. One hand came up to the spot on his cheek where she kissed him, and a drunken smile was on his face. He found his voice just before his new friend (and first crush) was out of hearing range.

"Bye, Freya!" He shouted, waving his arm madly.

He didn't know why he said it. There was no reason to say it. He knew her name was Mysti; her mother had called her that. But for some reason his lips had called her the wrong name. He prepared for a whole bunch of embarrassment when she whipped around quicker than he thought possible, eyes wide.

Instead of chewing him out, though, a gigantic smile split her face, and she waved back.

And he knew, deep down, that he_ had_ gotten her name right, just maybe not the one her parents had chosen. He just knew that her name was Freya, and she knew it too, and the name just made his heart skip a beat each time it came to mind.

He watched her leave the marketplace, hand-in-hand with her parents, and he smiled, because he knew this wasn't the last he had seen of Freya, his Angel of the Water.

**DAWWW! My own writing made me smile! I'm so vain ;)**

**I'm sorry, but I just had to do it!**

**To clarify, though: So, Freya's parents died in her first lifetime, and when Merlin brought her back into life with him, she went to a new set of parents, also druids, like her last family. Now Merlin's name stayed the same because his mother was still alive and knew to keep it the same, but Freya's new parents named her Mysti. Sorry for any confusion.**

**Also, the vision, clarified: Merlin, when he died, his soul went down into the Lake thingy that Freya is in charge of, (don't quite understand the significance of the lake, but whatevs, we'll say it's like Heaven, or the afterlife or whatever) grabbed onto her, and swooped right back out the Lake with her, and when they both emerged, they separated to go to their respective parents to be born again. Their love is just so amazing; I figured they could probably figure a way around destiny.**

**Hope that helps.**

**Don't worry, Freya fans: she will re-enter the story later, but since she's a druid and druids are nomads (at least, I figure they are), she will be travelling a lot and it'll have to be when she's a teenager (like, 16-18) that she can become a permanent character in the story. Till then, be prepared for a few awesome cameos as Merlin grows **

… **Was it just me, or did I use the word 'giggle' way too much? Oh well, that's really the only kind of laughing little kids do at that age.**

**Anyways, R&amp;R!**


	25. Chapter 25: Contrast

**Why helllllooooo there, my lovely readers! How are you this fine day? Oh, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking :)**

**I am SOOO sorry how much slower my updating is recently, but with school almost being over, I've had a lot of work to do! I promise, even if these updates take for-freaking-**_**ever**_**, I will never abandon this story. Too much fun to write, after all.**

**We are officially at the 25-chapter mark! *yay!* And- last I checked- at 66 reviews, with 90 favorites and 40-something follows! Monumental!**

**Seriously, this is probably one of the most popular things I have written and will ever write. So thank you for being a part of such a great accomplishment for me, and thank you for sticking with me through the many annoyances and a few boring chapters. You guys truly are the best ^~^ (Feel free to pat yourselves on the back.)**

**Guess what? Okay, so I'm sure you've noticed that most of my chapters (see chapter title below for example) are the story title, followed by a single word. The times when it's a single word –instead of a phrase- means that the word was a writing prompt, and was the entire basis of the whole chapter that ensues. Prompts always come in handy when I have writers' block, and helps me to update faster (hint hint). So, if you would like to see a specific happening in an upcoming chapter, feel free to either describe a situation or leave a single-word writing prompt in the reviews! I greatly appreciate your assistance in keeping this story interesting and fun.**

**This next chapter takes place the winter after Merlin's fifth birthday, and contains high levels of fluff, as well as some whumpage and hurt/comfort. Enjoy!**

**Never Quite Lost: Contrast**

"Come _on_, Dad, let's _move_!" Merlin implored, fingers grasped tightly around the king's wrist in an attempt to drag the man towards his goal. So far, he wasn't getting anywhere. At Arthur's amused smirk, the warlock stopped, blowing some of his bangs from his eyes in frustration. "Don't make me magic you! Cuz I will! You know I will! Come _on_!" He once again tried dragging the larger man by his wrist, but the king refused to budge.

"Well, Merlin, I would love to accompany you, but you have yet to explain where exactly you're so desperate to go." Arthur chuckled, easily freeing his arm from the boy's grip. Merlin put his hands on his thin hips and pouted.

"Ow'side! Duh!" He exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically. The man's eyebrow rose to his hairline.

"I'm not sure I like your attitude, young one." He scolded. Merlin had the grace to look embarrassed, apologizing sheepishly before trying a new tactic.

"Daddy, could we _pleeease_ go outside? It's the _very first_ snow this winter, a'd all the other kids get to play with _their_ daddies in the snow!" While the pitiful face he was making proved he was intentionally laying it on quite thick, he genuinely did want to play with Arthur in the snow. Nothing was fun without Arthur.

The king sighed, scrubbing a hand down his stubbly face, and looked down into those pleading, dewy eyes. _Wait, how have I resisted this long?_ Usually the pouty face would have worked in seconds. _Is something missi- ah, there're the tears._ Sighing one more time, Arthur leaned down and placed his hands on the crying boy's shoulders.

"Alright, Merlin. We can go play outside." He agreed, smiling as the boy beamed brighter than the sun. Before the child could go running outside like he seemed ready to do, though, the man scooped him up into his arms and carried him in the opposite direction.

"Um, Da? Dad? Where are we going?" Merlin asked with rising disappointment. Had this been a trick? Real tears started forming in his eyes as his father carried him up a flight of mighty stone steps. "Was I bad? 'd I do somthin' wrong?" He asked again, pushing his face from Arthur's shoulder and looking him in the face. "B'cuz whatever it is, 'm sorry! Won't do it 'gen!"

Arthur kept walking, but he smiled reassuringly at the small boy in his arms. "Don't worry, Merlin. I'm just taking us to your chambers to get you dressed appropriately for the weather." He explained. Merlin thought on that for a moment, nodding solemnly as if dressing for snow was a necessary but painful surgery he had just agreed to undergo. The Once and Future King rolled his blue eyes; he took everything seriously when he wasn't supposed to.

They reached the nursery moments later, and the king set about picking the right layering for the young warlock. Gaius, Hunith and Gwen had all lectured him many times on how Merlin must always dress warmly when winter came, considering he was of a rather sickly nature and illnesses caused by the cold were the last thing he needed.

The raven-haired boy squirmed until he was set on the floor, and while his father chose his pants, shirt, coat, and shoes, he chose his warmest neckerchief.

Merlin started to pull off his current shirt, but it got stuck on his 'fat little head', as Gwen lovingly called it, and the blonde was quick to assist the child before he ripped the fabric in his annoyed, jerking attempts to free himself. He took the sleeves in hand and carefully lifted the shirt over his son's head, gently poking his exposed belly to make him laugh.

As Merlin crouched over in laughter, though, Arthur remained still, face a bit pale as he noticed how thin the little boy really was. He could count every one of his ribs, and that was _after_ his four-month diet of eating everything on his plate, plus extra portions during the colder months to help him gain some insulation. How was he still not gaining any weight? Maybe going outside wouldn't be good for him?

"Da?" Merlin asked distractedly, pulling the new shirt over his head. Arthur startled a bit and waited for the boy to speak again.

The five-year-old pulled up his shirt and pointed at a spot at the base of his ribcage, and even in the poor torchlight and unusually grey sunlight Arthur knew he was indicating the scar there. "Wha's this from?" His big blue eyes held such a questioning look. The boy had noticed the scar plenty of times before, but had never asked about it till now.

_Lift his head!_

The king's eyes widened, him not being prepared for the question or the memories that would follow.

_We're losing him!_

"Um…"

_Sire, he's fading fast._

"Well, it was…"

_NOOO! DON'T LEAVE ME!_

"You were- uh…"

_MERLIN!_

"I CAN'T!" He shouted at last, clutching his head as it started ringing and aching. He felt overwhelmed by dark memories, memories that he had tried so hard to forget. They seemed burned into his brain, intent on torturing him for the rest of his existence.

Merlin, at the man's outburst, had quickly dropped his shirt back down and skittered backwards in fear, watching with wide eyes as the father he so adored began having a panic attack. What did he do?

_Arthur was leaning right over him, right over his dying- dead?- body as his lungs barely wheezed anymore and his heart hardly beat. The skin was so pale… his eyes were all bloody, bloody tears rolling down his cheeks and staining his tongue and teeth, his eyes dark and bruised purple with bloodloss, oh, so much _blood_…_

Merlin watched in horror as the king- his best friend, his father, his role model- grabbed fistfuls of his own hair and sobbed loudly, eyes far off as he hallucinated or something.

"Merlin!" He cried out in anguish, on his knees and now digging the heels of his hands into his burning eyes.

"Da?" The boy stuttered out, inching closer to the fallen man. Arthur ignored him, continued crying. Gaining a bit of courage, Merlin went right up to his father, standing up and reaching for his shoulders, shaking them just a bit.

"Daddy, I'm here. 'S okay." He said as calmly as his frazzled nerves would allow. This time Arthur looked up, eyeing him in something akin to confusion and relief.

To Arthur, the interruption of his flashbacks was sent from God. He looked up when he heard the word 'daddy', a bit surprised and caught up in the moment. When he made eye contact with Merlin- short, straining-to-reach-Arthur's-height-even-though-Arthur's-kneeling, _alive_ Merlin- the tears stopped their flowing, and he stared as the image of adult Merlin lying dead on the ground was compared to the breathing Merlin before him.

Oh dear God, he had the same skin color, a-and his eyes were so glassy and teary! And his cheeks were so hollow! The similarities made him feel sick.

_No, Arthur. Think of the good times._ And, blinking a bit, he did.

He saw his servant, bumbling idiot that he was, barely dodging his blows in combat practice. He saw his friend, crouching beside him and reassuring him after yet another of his comrades was killed in battle. He saw a pure-hearted warlock, wispy tendrils of golden light gently cascading from between his fingers, a smile upon his face. He saw his brother, shoving him out of the way and jumping into the Dorocha's path, covered in frost but soon returning to assist his king.

An image appeared before his very eyes, translucent but still there, an image of Merlin, 22-year-old Merlin, laughing at something Gwaine had said a few days before his… before his rebirth. His eyes were crinkled happily, his smile split his face and his cheeks were rosy with mirth.

And as he gazed upon this Merlin before him, his son, the child form of his beloved friend, similarities began to form between the image and the living being.

_Oh my, just look at his hair. Same rat's nest of curls and tangles._ Arthur thought fondly. Gwen had insisted on cutting it, but Arthur had adamantly refused to let it happen; it was something so _Merlin_, so purely Merlin, he couldn't let it be changed.

Merlin was still lightly shaking his shoulders, staring straight into his face with tears building up in his eyes as his worry doubled at the lack of response from his father. But Arthur couldn't find it in himself to move at all at the moment; he was busy studying the boy's every feature. He was a beautiful child, a beautiful creation that he was honored to call his son. Merlin had been a good man, and Arthur only hoped he could raise him to be as he once was, hoped that his personality would stay intact throughout this second- and much different- upbringing. He thirstily drank in the sight of the little boy before him.

His ears were virtually the same as he remembered them to be, similar in size and proportion to his face. His lips, while not smiling the same smile as the image, were the same shape and pale shade. And if he really looked, he could very clearly see the light rosy color adorning his sharp cheekbones, taking away some of the deathly appearance. His nose was tiny, a button nose, really, and his nostrils were flaring a bit as they always did when he felt apprehensive or really any other intense emotions. His eyes were so bright and full of life and intelligence, and Arthur found himself lost in those cerulean depths. Blue eyes were fairly rare in the land, making the sight of them even more special.

He smiled a bit. _The two Merlins –cheerful adult and young child- were exactly the same_. This Merlin was still his Merlin, and nothing would change that.

He placed two slightly shaky hands on his son's shoulders so their arms were parallel, and he looked deeply into the boy's tearful eyes.

"I'm okay now, Merlin. I was just having a flashback, but I'm fine, I promise." He assured, speaking slowly and with emphasis. The tension seemed to immediately drain from the boy's countenance and he smiled.

"Good. 'lease don't do tha' again! It scared me so much!" He exclaimed, running into Arthur's open arms and wrapping his own arms around the man's neck, giving it his strongest hug. "I love you, and I thought maybe you were scared cuz you din' know cuz I don't say it enough or somethin'." He mumbled into the man's shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of his shirt and the smell of Arthur himself- a smell he knew quite well and felt immense comfort from. A few solitary tears fell down his cheeks, and he swiped them away with his hand.

Arthur, grinning, put his arms around the tiny body holding onto him and hugged back as tightly as he dared to, resting his chin and lips on the dark ebony hair. It tickled a bit.

"Oh, Merlin, whatever am I going to do with you, my son?" He asked with a sigh, pulling Merlin into his lap and holding him closer. Merlin shifted a bit to get comfy and dug his face back into the red shirt his father wore. Arthur ran his hand up and down the warlock's back. "Merlin, I know you love me. I love you too. We're family, and we'll always love each other. Right?" Merlin simply nodded, relishing the warmth of the body surrounding him. From his position he could distinctly hear the beating of Arthur's heart, and he loved it. It was steady, and reliable, and _there_ for him to hear.

They stayed there, snuggling on the floor of Merlin's nursery, for maybe an hour. Darkness had fallen outside, meaning they had missed their opportunity to play in the snow.

Oh well, Merlin thought as he burrowed deeper into Arthur's sleepy embrace, this is way better than playing in the cold, wet snow.

With a smile and a contented sigh, Merlin fell asleep in his daddy's strong arms.

**Daww! Be honest, how many of you were smiling at the end? I love writing these two!**

**Alright, readers: you have a mission. I would like to get the reviews up to 70, meaning a measly 4 more reviews are needed. Hopefully there will be more than that, but please, leave a review! Let me know how your reading experience has been! I would love to hear your comments!**

**Thank you all for sticking with me so far (I can't believe I STARTED writing this story at the beginning of the school year! It' been so long already!)!**

**Also, a little note: I wasn't trying to make Arthur sound creepy by the whole 'calling Merlin beautiful' thing. Parents will often observe their children because they think the living beings THEY created and/or raised are amazing. It's not meant to be anything pedophilic or creepy like that. Arthur is just a loving parent enchanted (HA! Puns.) with the child he's raising, the boy he considers his son in everything but blood.**

**Anywho, there's my official week's work.**

**Let's get this weekend STARTEEEEEEED!**

**R&amp;R!**


	26. Chapter 26: Subconscious

**Hey all! I have returned!**

**Thanks to MugetsuPipefox for the lovely writing prompt! I really, really wanted to make this longer for you, Mugetsu, but with finals nearing, and with my muse being stubborn, I don't have the time or mental capacity to add to its meager size. I hope you enjoy this regardless! Sorry!**

**Merlin is six years old.**

**Never Quite Lost: Subconscious**

The question ran through all of their minds more often than they would admit: did Merlin really remember anything from his past life, or was everything just a big coincidence?

After all, they had all seen his aversion to any and all golden goblets, had all heard his ramblings about the 'drockas' hiding under his bed, screaming at him, and once, he had called Arthur 'Your Pratness'.

Gaius received the answer to the big question on a muggy midsummer's evening, when Merlin was assisting him in the cleaning of his closet. The boy had grown a few inches in the past year, now reaching the elderly man's waist, and his hair had grown longer and curlier, but Gwen had cut it slightly so it stayed at the base of his skull.

"Pass me the winroot, would you, Merlin?" He asked, rearranging the dated herbs and remedies. The warlock, hands full of bottles already, sighed and levitated the small jar into the waiting hand. Gaius placed it in its proper place without comment.

Merlin finished sorting through his designated shelf, decided that he would like to avoid going to bed, and moved up to the next wooden shelf without asking permission first. He just hoped that his uncle wouldn't notice.

_Dogroot, dinsley, extract of frog testes, anamara… _None of the names made sense to him, but he shrugged and sorted them by the size of the bottles encasing the leaves and liquids. All was going well until he came upon a strangely familiar bottle, a large and tall one full of bright blue liquid. Curious, he pulled it from its dusty perch and tugged on Gaius's robe.

"What's this say?" He asked around the gap between his bottom teeth. The aged physician turned slightly to read the label for him.

"It says _aconite_. Be very careful, Merlin, it's very-" He was cut off as the bottle crashed to the floor, Merlin jumping backwards from it desperately. His eyes were blown wide, his breathing was ragged and he was staring in something akin to shock at the broken shards of glass.

"Poison! Poison!" He shouted, pointing accusingly at the wet ground. There was sweat on his brow. Gaius placed his forgotten bottles on a nearby shelf and knelt by the boy, carefully avoiding the spreading puddle. He placed a concerned hand on the child's shoulder.

Merlin's head shot up and he met the man's gaze.

"'s POISON!" He exclaimed, again, as if Gaius was hard of hearing and hadn't received the message loud and clear already. The man nodded, examining his nephew carefully. Was he suffering from some sort of mental breakdown? His behavior was far from normal.

"It'll poison Arthur! Poison, poison, I'm lying to you Gaius, no bandits, Morgana, snake, _poison the meat, Merlin, _Arthur's in trouble, WHY ISN'T HE EATING IT?" He finished with a scream of frustration as his eyes focused on something in the far distance.

Memories of that fateful endeavor crossed Gaius's mind, making him blanch. Did Merlin remember being under Morgana's control?

"Merlin," he said firmly, shaking his shoulders a bit, "how do you know this?" Merlin looked directly at him with haunted, confused eyes.

"I don't know. I just _do_, and _why am I doing this, Merlin? Control yourself, it's YOUR damned body!"_ He shouted again. Gaius winced at the adult language. When the boy had calmed slightly, he spoke to him, placing a hand under his chin.

"Merlin. Listen. This is all just a memory… from the… sky." He made up as he went. Merlin stopped rambling. His eyes lit up in wonder.

"From the _sky_?" He asked excitedly, all agitation gone in an instant. Gaius smiled and nodded, patting his shoulder in reassurance.

"Yes, see, when the sky has too many memories, it makes them fall like shooting stars and land right in people's heads."

Merlin's eyes were wide again, but this time with awe. He ate the story up happily.

"Woah. Tell me more!"

Gaius chuckled, starting to clean up the sharp pieces of glass. "I will, my boy, but first you need to finish sorting that extra shelf." Merlin groaned.

Stupid chores.

_Does that make _him_ a sky memory too?_ He thought, peering over at Will, who was standing awkwardly in the corner, perking up when Merlin looked his way. Merlin waved back before he continued his work. _Nah, he's too _mine_ to be the sky's._

**Once again, sorry for the lame and short chapter, but I've got a lot going on right now and just wanted to get this up before things get even busier.**

**Thanks for your patience!**


	27. Chapter 27: Doctor WHO?

**I have returned!**

**Didja miss me?**

**Thank you all for your patience, I am now back to updating!**

**Please, be sure to check my profile; I've added new info to it that you might be interested in reading!**

**GUESS WHAT? For all of you Whovians out there, here's an extra-special chapter! EEP! Minor crossover, just for fun :)**

**Btw, I know nothing about modern British culture/slang, and as such will probably get a few Doctor-y speech things wrong and so forth. Bear with me.**

**Merlin is 7 in this chapter; we're skipping ahead a bit!**

**Never Quite Lost: Doctor **_**Who?**_

Merlin could feel the distortion in the atmosphere. He could sense the fabric of the universe shifting and bending, similar to the feeling of static electricity during a lightning storm. It had been like this all morning, ever since he was awoken at sunrise by the strange sensation.

Immediately he was wary, knowing that such powerful magic could only be used by Priestesses, himself, and the dragons.

He set out as soon as he was finished with his morning routine, consisting of lessons, archery practice (he was getting quite good at it) and cleaning the kitchens with Mamai. He knew the cause of the disturbance was in the nearby forest, not too far from home.

The trek was short, but he had to stop several times to catch his breath; it was almost time for his weekly cough-up, meaning his lungs were more sensitive and clogged than usual.

The raven-haired warlock finally came upon what he was looking for, though he didn't know exactly what it was. It was big, and square, and bright blue, with a flickering candle on top. He couldn't read what the text along the sides said. The box was making a strange wheezing sound, similar to the variety he sometimes made.

"Hellooo?" He called out, hesitantly inching toward the alien machine. When he reached what he assumed to be the door, he reached forward and knocked lightly. "Is this your house? Hello?" The door immediately flew open, making Merlin shriek in surprise and stumble backwards and land on his butt, shaking.

He watched in shock as a very funny-looking man scrambled out of the box, followed by a plume of smoke.

The man was very tall and lanky, with long brown hair and big eyes. His clothes were very strange, made of a foreign fabric Merlin had never seen before, with a strange butterfly-shaped thing around his neck.

The man didn't notice the shaken child at first, taking the time to turn and hurriedly close the door behind him and then scanning the area with intelligent eyes.

"Now, where have you dumped me, old girl?" He murmured, studying the forest beyond. Merlin gulped; who was this strange person that could distort space and time as he had?

"A-are you a warlock?" He whimpered, angry at how cowardly he sounded. The man snapped his head around to look intently at the boy.

"Oh! Hello, there! I didn't see you!" He exclaimed with a friendly smile. Merlin relaxed at the gesture. He took the man's proffered hand and stood up, noting glumly that he only reached the man's waist in height.

"Are you a warlock?" He asked again. The man seemed interested in the question, but didn't answer immediately, thinking.

What time period would this be, where magic was still used? Certainly not the twentieth or twenty-first century, certainly not the seventieth century, and definitely not after Earth's destruction. Earth was the epicenter of magic. The boy's clothes hinted at some point during the 5th or 6th centuries.

Merlin took the silent contemplation to be a sign of hesitance.

"It's alright if you are, Camelot allows magic now! I'm a warlock, too, so you don't have to be afraid!" He encouraged, jumping in place. The man paused in his thinking and smiled again, that same friendly smile that made Merlin instantly like him, despite his strangeness.

"Oh, no, my friend, I'm not a warlock." He assured. Merlin looked a little disappointed. "I'm a Time Lord." He said with a flourish, thoroughly enjoying Merlin's look of utter awe.

"Woah! Really? What's that?" He asked. The man shook his head with a chuckle.

"It's an ancient race from another planet that's far away from here." He explained, though he became confused when Merlin looked rather lost.

"What's a planet?" He inquired. The man snorted to himself and waved off the question, knowing it would take too long to answer.

"Never mind that. So tell me, what's your name?" The boy looked wary at first, but soon enough loosened up and smiled widely.

"My name's Merlin!" He said happily, pointing his thumb up at himself. "I'm a warlock!" The man eyed him up and down suspiciously, crossing his arms.

"Merlin? As in, _THE_ Merlin? Advisor to fictitious King Arthur? Wise old wizard? _That_ Merlin?" Merlin was confused at the disbelief in the man's voice.

"I… I don't think so. I'm seven years old!" He said proudly. Then he looked slightly annoyed. "Also, I'm a _warlock_, not a wizard. Weren't you listening to me?" His voice was irritated.

He hadn't been listening, actually. He had been thinking.

"Well, I'm The Doctor. This blue box here is my TARDIS, a magical box that lets me travel through space and time."

"Yeah, I knew _that_. But what's a doctor? Isn't that what you call a physician? Like Uncle Gaius? Are you a physician?" The boy's questions being annoying aside, The Doctor had to actually take a mental step back and replay what he had just said. How did he know he was a time traveller?

"Wha? Oh, no, it's just a title I picked. Tell me, how'd you already know about me?" He sat down with his legs crossed, beckoning for the child to do the same. They sat across from each other, each watching the other like a hawk.

"Well, I could feel you coming." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "How else would I know where to find you? Hey, what's the future like?"

The Doctor just stared at him. "Y-you could _feel_ me coming?" He demanded, awestruck. The boy must have been very powerful!

"Well, yeah. It felt like tingles all over, like something weird was coming. And I knew where you'd be, so after archery, Daddy let me take a walk so I could come find you." Merlin elaborated.

"Mhm." The Doctor hummed as he whipped out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the boy with it. He spoke distractedly as he read the results. "And who, exactly, is 'Daddy'?"

Merlin's jaw nearly hit the floor. He didn't know? Nearly everybody knew his dad! Wouldn't a time traveller know?

"King Arthur." He stated. The alien, meanwhile, was flabbergasted. The scans had come up positive for Merlin Emrys, mighty warlock. And all this time he had believed him to be a work of fiction! He was sitting with a legend!

"Wait… King Arthur is… your _father_?" Merlin nodded, leaving the Gallifreyan stuttering in disbelief. That is not how the story goes! Maybe the timeline changed? It was possible.

This was making his head hurt.

And that's saying something.

He shook his head, refocusing on his purpose for being here.

"Say, Merlin, could you help me, by any chance? My TARDIS is broken, and I think your magic could fix it." He said hopefully. He could always find a way to fix it himself, but he was dying to see the warlock in action.

"Welll…. Okay!" The boy exclaimed, jumping up. He placed one hand on the worn blue paint and closed his eyes as he thought of the proper spell. Behind him, The Doctor was rushing to get his new camera phone out (he had gotten it to provide photographic evidence of his adventures to the newly settled-down Amy and Rory) and ran to stand beside him to get a better view. He set it up to record a video and trained it on Merlin.

Merlin opened his eyes and whispered, "**gebétunge," **and the Time Lord watched in fascination as his blue eyes turned golden, staying that way for ten full seconds (he snapped a picture of them as well) before fading back to their original color. He ended the recording just as the boy dropped his hand to his side again. When he eagerly opened the door with a simple snap of the fingers, he was ecstatic to find that the smoke was gone, and everything that had previously been damaged was good as new. He clapped his hands and rushed back out to where the child was waiting, pulling him up into a hug.

"Haha! You did it! That was amazingly cool!" He cried. Merlin seemed to blush slightly after he was set back on the ground.

"Um… thanks! What does it look like inside?" The Doctor paused before remembering the TARDIS. He held the door open and gestured for the boy to enter.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" He was already eagerly anticipating the warlock's reaction to the large interior. He doubted even the mighty Merlin could be unimpressed by it.

He was not let down, because as soon as his feet crossed the threshold, Merlin let out a gasp and opened his eyes extremely wide. He entered slowly, eyes hungrily soaking up the image of the magical, _impossible_ place before him. He reverently ran his hand along the handrail.

"It's…. She's so beautiful!" He whispered, breath stolen away. "And the magic…" He trailed off, beaming when his outstretched hand collected a golden glowing dust around it as he wiggled his fingers jovially.

The Doctor watched with a stab in his heart, missing the days when he too possessed the childlike innocence and positivity that Merlin was very lucky to have. He also missed his own children, and his grandchildren, the ones he lost so many lifetimes ago. Seeing little Merlin interacting with his- decidedly pleased- TARDIS made him actually feel his age of over 900 years.

But at the same time, he felt lighter; unburdened by the harsh cruelties of life when he was with one who had yet to be tainted by it. He felt refreshed, invigorated, and he felt genuine happiness for the first time since his companions decided to walk out on him. Most of all, he felt hope.

The TARDIS wheezed, and Merlin giggled happily before replying, "I like you too!"

The Doctor smiled. He walked over to the main console where the boy was investigating and knelt in front of him.

"Merlin, would you like to travel with me?" He asked hopefully. Merlin's owlish eyes blinked once, widening and then looking conflicted.

"But what about Mamai? And Daddy? And Juju? Would I ever see them again?" He asked, tears already forming in his eyes. The Doctor hushed him, placing his hands on the child's thin shoulders.

"No no, Merlin! I just meant an adventure or two! Travel through space, see a _planet_! We'll keep it short, and since this is a time machine, I can have you back at home five minutes after you left! What do you say?" He proposed, hoping to be less lonely just for a little while.

Merlin looked thoughtful, but in the end, his youthful curiosity got the better of him, and he nodded with a smile.

"Good lad! One adventure, coming up!" The Doctor cried gleefully, flying around the circular control column and doing a crazy sort of dance as he flipped levers and pushed buttons.

"Doctor?" Merlin asked.

"Yes?"

"What's that weird thing around your neck?"

"What- oh, this? It's a bowtie."

"A what?"

"It's like a necklace, but manlier."

"Oh…. But, why would you wear one?"

Man, he loved this kid.

"Because, my dear Merlin," He replied, pressing one last button and laughing, "bowties are cool!"

**YAY! Love The Doctor!**

**I am sorry to say, though, that he won't be in the next chapter. The next one will take place a few years later (trying not to make this fic too long), but if you guys like it enough, he may drop in for a visit sometime in the future! **

**I hope you liked it! Sorry if anyone was OOC, or if I got something wrong. All mistakes are my own.**

**It might seem rushed, and that's because I was rushed to write it. Did my best, but short on time, y'know? **

**Also, the old English magic spell word meant 'repair', but there were millions of forms of the word (dative, accusative, etc.), so I just randomly picked one. No idea if it was grammatically correct.**

**The Doctor, I think, would really love it if someone asked him a question that would give him the opportunity to say 'bowties are cool', so that's why he loves Merlin after he asks, if that was confusing.**

**I also hope that you non-Whovians enjoyed as well, but it's totally understandable if you didn't.**

**Anyways, please leave a review, favorite, or follow!**

**Allons-y! **


	28. Chapter 28: Achoo

**Hey all! Here's the next chapter for you!**

**Warning: Plenty of cameos ahead, plus several instances of time travelling, not specific to Doctor Who. You'll see ;) **

**Man, I'm really in a crossover phase, aren't I? **

**This chappie shall be for humor purposes, just in case anyone needs some cheering up.**

**Merlin is 9 in this chapter.**

**Never Quite Lost: Achoo**

It was evident from the moment he woke up that Merlin was, indeed, sick. His nose was clogged and runny, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, his skin was pale and his cheeks, flushed. His voice sounded hoarse and raspy and he refused to leave his bed.

"Mamai, I don't feel," he sneezed loudly, looking dazed afterwards, "so good. I'm going to sleep again." And with that, he fell asleep, deep into dreamland long before his head hit the pillow.

Hunith sighed and pulled his sweaty blankets more comfortably around him, wondering whether or not Gaius' services would be required.

Throughout the cold winter's day, he was awoken constantly by a variety of symptoms, including- but not limited to- vomiting, stomach pains, hiccups, temperature fluctuations, coughing, overproduction of mucus, and sneezing. Oh, the sneezing. That was by far the worst, when he would sneeze so hard and loudly that his eyes would get glazed over and it would sound more like a scream than anything.

"Mama," he told Gwen as she rubbed a cold cloth over his heated forehead, "I feel really sleepy." His eyes started to flutter closed, his angelic face relaxing.

Then he shot up and sneezed again, a mighty, thundering roar that shook the whole castle and left a fleck of blood in Merlin's hand from his raw throat and nose.

"Ah… _CHOOO!_" Then he sniffled his nose and passed out again.

Smiling sadly in pity, Gwen stood and left the room to give the boy some peace and quiet.

As soon as she opened the door, however, she had to immediately shut it, as there was a big commotion in the hallway that could wake him up. Making sure he was still sleeping soundly, she exited and closed the door again, this time more slowly to avoid the slamming noise it would make.

Then she marched over to her husband, who was dealing with a growing line of people dressed in varying styles of the strangest clothing she had ever seen.

Arthur was making a placating gesture with his hands, silencing the group- all men, Gwen noticed- and demanding authoritatively that they speak one at a time.

Instead of the first person in the line, however, Arthur nodded towards the window, where a large golden snout was fogging up the glass with its warm breath.

"I have received a distress signal from my dragonlord." Kilgarrah rumbled. Arthur approached the window, unlatched it, and leaned out towards the dragon.

"Merlin is fine, Kilgarrah, he's just caught a mild winter illness. He'll be fine." He soothed, making a shooing motion. "But only if he gets his rest, which he won't get if you're making lots of noise outside his chambers!"

The dragon sniffed in annoyance, grumbling about the rudeness of it all before taking off into the snowy skies.

The first two people in line, wearing matching uniforms, began to speak.

"We picked up an energy fluctuation and had the _Enterprise_ break Warp 12 to get here and assist." Said the taller one, a man with pointed ears, big brown eyes and upswept eyebrows, wearing a blue shirt.

"The _what_?" Arthur asked. The man in the gold shirt with matching golden hair and stunning blue eyes stepped forward.

"Our ship, the _Enterprise_. Now, where is the danger?"

"I apologize that you traveled so far to help us, but there is no danger here. Only a little boy who sneezed." Gwen said softly.

"Captain, I did inform you that this was most likely a waste of precious time and resources." The pointy-eared man said. His counterpart mock-glared at him, punching his arm.

"No need to get all 'I told you so' on me, subordinate." He warned without conviction. The other man raised his pointed eyebrow and made to leave, his friend following close behind and saying to a thing on his arm, "Scotty, beam us up." In a flashy show of light, they vanished into thin air.

Gwen had called on the second ones in line by then. There were two of them, dressed similarly in trousers made of strange blue material and some loose-fitting shirts, each carrying a strange bent stick with holes in the ends.

"Yeah, my brother and I were sent here to assist some kid in danger. Anyone here fit the bill?" The shorter of the two asked in a strange accent. The king and queen exchanged confused looks.

"Well, there's Merlin, but he's just got some sort of cold. He'll be fine." Gwen informed them. The taller brother snorted slightly while his shorter sibling started swearing grumpily about their luck.

"Frikkin' Cas!" He scowled, grabbing his chuckling brother and marching away.

Arthur blinked. "Well, then."

"Now, what do _you_ need?" Gwen asked the next person in line. He was a young boy slightly older than Merlin, with black-blue hair and one blue eye. The other was concealed with an eye patch. In his hand was a walking stick. It was also hard to miss his extremely tall shadow, an older man with black hair and red eyes, dressed in black compared to the boy's blue.

"I was made aware of a time anomaly involving a warlock crying out for help. Is our assistance needed?" The boy inquired in a mature tone, sounding more like an adult than a child.

"Um, no, as we were just saying, Merlin is going to be fine. What sort of 'time anomaly' are you talking about?" This was when the man in line behind them jumped up, raising his hand and pushing past them to stand before the king.

"They're talking about the cry for help emitted from this particular time period, on this particular day." He explained. He was dressed in a strange plaid version of the red-eyed man's outfit, with a red butterfly-shaped cloth on his neck and a cylindrical red cap resting on his head. He thrust his hand out for them to shake. "King Arthur and… Queen Guinevere, I presume?"

Ignoring the boy, who was annoyed at being interrupted, and his apparent servant, the man took out a leather scrap and opened it, showing a piece of parchment inside with many circles on it.

"My psychic paper received the following message from Merlin, son of Pendragon: 'Ah Chu.' This just so happens to mean 'help me, I'm in trouble, I need help, I'm dying,' in Gallifreyan. So I came to help."

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe my young master was before you." Said the tall servant with a flowing voice.

"Just a moment, butler, this is of utmost importance and I'm the only one who can help."

"Could you all please be quiet?" Gwen shouted, silencing the bickering men. "Merlin is absolutely fine. He's sick, but it's not severe, and he doesn't require your assistance."

All three of them looked surprised.

"So what was the distress call about, then?" Asked the man with the strange hat.

"Honestly…." Gwen grumbled impatiently, "That was a _sneeze_, gentlemen. Now do be on your way before I get a headache." With that, she motioned for them to leave.

"Oh, well. Come, Sebastian. Take me home." Said the boy regally. The servant nodded and bowed slightly, picking the boy up and suddenly disappearing in a cloud of swirling light.

The king and queen remained relatively unfazed, being used to sorcery and all its oddities by now.

Still, Arthur said, "I had no idea that a man from the future could be a sorcerer."

The remaining man, however, shook his head with a knowing smile.

"He isn't. He's just one hell of a butler."

At Gwen's unimpressed look, he straightened up a bit and began walking away.

"Do give Merlin my best! Tell him The Doctor stopped by." He requested. Gwen nodded and swore she would.

As the man got further down the hallway, though, he seemed to remember something and ran back to them, pulling a square device from his pocket.

"Oh, I forgot!" He exclaimed, jumping between them and holding the device up in the air above their heads. "Amy didn't believe I was really _here_ last time, so I need to get her some more proof. Say 'selfie'!" The flabbergasted couple could only stare at the thing holding their image with suspicious looks, while The Doctor smiled widely and pressed a button. There was a bright flash of light, then the man started to walk away again, reviewing the image he had caught.

"Oh, this is a great one! I can't wait to tell the Ponds about this. King Arthur and Guinevere! What a day." He closed the door behind him and the blue box that the royals hadn't noticed before started wheezing and fading into nothingness.

Gwen sighed in relief and began trudging in the opposite direction, Arthur following.

"I am _so_ glad that's over." Her husband nodded in agreement. On their way to their chambers, Gwen stopped and peeked into Merlin's room to make sure he was still sleeping after all that noise.

She froze when she saw the two men in there, one analyzing the room and the other poking and prodding at a groggy Merlin.

"Oh, come _on!_" She exclaimed in frustration, storming into the room and startling the men.

"See, I told you we should have left him alone." Said the taller of the two, wearing a long black coat and a mop of ebony hair similar to Merlin's. He looked very bored.

The older and shorter one, wearing those weird blue trousers and a fuzzy shirt and sporting very sandy-colored hair, shot a glare at his companion and continued looking at Merlin's eye as he shone a tiny light into it.

"Sherlock, we can't just leave the little guy to suffer, he's got the flu!" He snapped.

"Just what are you doing in here?" Arthur demanded, drawing his sword.

"Obvious, isn't it?" Drawled Sherlock, eyes raking over the defensive king. "I guess that angel was telling the truth, we do seem to be in the presence of King Arthur of Camelot. Hm, time travel, who knew?" His blonde friend stood from the bedside and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a strange orange container with little white pellets inside.

"Here, give this to him once a day and his symptoms should clear up within a week." He handed the thing to Gwen, who inspected it curiously.

"How do we give this to him? What do they do?" She asked. The man looked at her in disbelief.

"You don't know how to administer a _pill_?" He asked. Sherlock, who was currently at the end of Arthur's sword, rolled his eyes.

"Terribly sorry about him, he's not quite so open-minded. _Or observant_." He said pointedly. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, this is my friend John Watson. He's a physician, and we're from the future." Ignoring the sword warily held at his chest, Sherlock sidestepped out of Arthur's reach and approached Gwen, taking the bottle from her.

"You just push down on the white part, twist, and the lid comes off. The white things inside are called pills, and they're basically a tonic, but in a solid form, to make things easier. You put it on the middle of your tongue- don't chew it, drink some water, and swallow it all in one go. Only one per day." He explained with a patience that seemed unusual for a person like him.

Gwen nodded in understanding, taking the bottle back and placing it on Merlin's bedside table.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Watson. How may we repay you?" She asked kindly, shooting Arthur an annoyed glance when he started to protest. She trusted these men; she had seen her fair share of time travellers (thanks to Merlin) and knew they didn't like to mess around with historical figures for fear of changing the future irreparably. Not that she was all puffed up with pride over being a historical figure, but she _was_ a queen, and that had to mean _something_ to the future generations.

John smiled back at her, shaking his head.

"Free of charge. Just help this little one get better, and that'll be payment enough." He gestured towards the sick boy behind him, who was sleeping soundly now.

The queen beamed at the kindness these strangers were showing, and curtsied.

"Thank you very much, sirs. You are always welcome to return to Camelot." Sherlock's face remained impassive, if not a little smug, but John was now gaping openly.

"C-Camelot? We really _are_ in the past?" His face was white as a sheet. His taller friend nodded as if it had always been obvious. "And this is the _real_ Camelot? Like, with King Arthur and Guinevere and Gawaine?"

"It's _Gwaine_." Arthur mumbled under his breath, grumpy. Gwen subtly stomped on his foot to shut him up.

"Yes, I'm Guinevere, and this is my husband, Arthur." She introduced. John numbly shook Arthur's reluctant hand, followed by Sherlock.

"Wait, if this it _Camelot_, where's that old wizard, Merlin?" The monarchs looked confused. Old? Wizard?

"Well, I don't know about an old wizard, but we do have a young warlock by that name." She said, gesturing to the sleeping child.

John glanced backwards, gaping.

"No. No bloody way is Merlin a child! He's so much older than you lot in the stories!" Sherlock stepped forward, placed a hand on John's shoulder, and motioned for him to just stop talking. His ranting was waking the sleeping boy.

"Sorry about him. We'll be going now. Our deepest congratulations on Camlann." He led his friend to the center of the room. "We're leaving, Castiel." He called out, and moments later they were whisked away in a flurry of wind.

"Shit!" Arthur cried, running to where they had just disappeared from, searching.

Gwen turned to her pouting husband.

"What's wrong _now?_"

"Oh, nothing," he said sarcastically, holding up his naked right hand for her to see, "The ring with our royal seal was just stolen by a thieving time traveller, but other than that, everything's just _swell_."

**Oh Sherlie, you pickpocket! Sorry, I kind of had a fandom explosion. Anybody in any of those fandoms? Other than the obvious Sherlock and Doctor Who, does anybody know what shows the remaining visitors were from?**

**I know, not much of Merlin in here. Oh well, it's not like he's a rare occurrence in the first place.**

**Did you enjoy? I hope you did.**

**R&amp;R!**


	29. Chapter 29: School

**Apologies for my lateness! Life is so hectic… Also, I keep trying to type out chapters for my already existing stories, but then my brain is like 'but you should write a new story in another fandom!' so then I start a completely new fic and forget to update this one! Sorry!**

**I got lucky today, I felt super inspired and thankfully our substitute teacher gave us a free period to work on whatever, and he let us sit on the ground against the walls and everything! **

**Sitting against a wall is especially beneficial, because I really don't like typing out any kind of fanfictions when I'm sitting at a desk in school where everybody can read over my shoulder and judge me. Seriously, I don't blush easily, but those first few weeks when I was new to fanfiction and foolishly writing during classes when my desk is smack in the center of the room, if a teacher knelt down by my desk and was all like 'whatcha working on there, Grace?', my face felt like bursting into flames of shame. I don't know why it bugs me so much, cuz' I'm not writing porn and stuff like lots of other people do, but it's so embarrassing! Anybody else like that?**

**Anywho, guess who's addicted to Attack on Titan? Think I've hit my anime phase. (Anybody got suggestions for animes similar to the aforementioned one? Looking for a new one to watch and get obsessed with.) Expect several future fics in AOT! **

**Enough about my personal life, though!**

**Merlin is a grumpy, foul-mouthed 11-year-old in this chapter, and this is dedicated to **_**that one teacher**_** that everybody gets, and **_**that one class**_** that everyone is a part of at one point in their life. This chappie has some serious elements, but also has lots of pure crack.**

**Disclaimer: Forgot about doing this for the longest time! Don't own Merlin, **_**do **_**own my original characters.**

**Never Quite Lost: School**

_Damn you all._ Merlin internally growled to himself, the only outward sign of his current frustration being a slight scowl and a tiny furrowing of the brows.

"Merlin? You alright?" Kara whispered to her classmate, blinking owlishly. Merlin grumbled something that sounded like a cross between 'yeah, I'm good' and 'yam could.' Taking this as an affirmative, she nodded and returned her gaze to the teacher.

That's right; Merlin was now part of a _class_. With _other children_.

While Merlin didn't mind the company in his usually boring classes, he _did _mind the fact that most of these kids didn't know how to use their ears without running their mouths simultaneously.

A few weeks ago, Gwen had graciously set up a free educational program for the lower-class children of Camelot, including the children of merchants, farmers and even a few druids when they stayed in the kingdom for a few days- also including Merlin, seeing as George had nothing left to teach him.

Seeing as these children weren't used to a shared learning environment, their interactions were somewhat understandable. But that didn't make it any less _annoying_.

"-so then I-"

"-did you hear-"

"-this is so-"

All speaking at once, albeit slightly whispering, the other twenty-seven children (with the exception of four) were making it near impossible to hear the teacher as he droned on.

And the teacher! He was the most annoying part of it all. He was an obese man with thinning hair and possibly the weakest, most unintimidating voice they'd ever heard. He clearly noticed the children talking as he himself was lecturing, yet he completely ignored them and continued teaching as if he had a million adults focusing on him intently. His name was Mister Tangyne, and he was the most educated adult in Camelot. He seemed genuinely involved when he taught mathematics, literature, and the sciences, but he didn't demand any respect from the blabbering children, didn't tell them to stop talking.

And Merlin, of course, was smack in the middle of it all. He didn't talk during class- aside from a few fruitless attempts to shut his peers up- and yet his markings were some of the lowest. He wholeheartedly blamed his noisy classmates for his inability to hear and understand what the teacher was saying, and he also secretly blamed his stupid instructor for not taking the few seconds it takes to make the students be quiet.

He had complained of this to Julia several times, but she had only ruffled his unruly hair with a smirk and said, "Maybe you're just a dummy, my unfortunate little brother." Then she would stick out her tongue and make some excuse about training, and then run off.

_I'm not a dummy, you idiot. _He grumped, sulking as Josiah continued to brag about his prized heifer. _And _you_, Josiah, are an extra-special species of idiot. Nobody cares about your dumb cow. Can't you just wait a few minutes to blab so some of us can actually learn? Also, your voice is grating and your breath stinks. _He didn't say any of this aloud, but he was incredibly tempted to.

Tangyne continued obliviously lecturing about ratios.

"What's a ratio?" Asked Carolinia, a merchant's daughter sitting behind Merlin.

"I don't know. This old toad is talking too fast for me to catch it. Honestly, we're the smartest people in this shithole, yet even _we _can't decipher what this idiot's saying." Amaryllis whispered back. Merlin found it amazing that he could hear some goddamn _whispering _loud and clear, but was totally unable to hear a large man talking as loudly as his soft voice allowed.

"Well, is it, like, a mathematics thing?" The first girl asked, ignoring but obviously agreeing with her friend's last comment. Amaryllis shook her head, metal earrings tinkling irritatingly. Merlin grasped his pencil (a children's version of an ink quill that instead wrote in erasable lead) in a tight fist.

"No, I think it's an economic thing. Like, monarchy and stuff." The young warlock internally screamed as Carolinia accepted this as the correct answer. He might not be doing well in schooling, but at least he knew what _ratios_ were!

Beside him, Thomas was tapping his pencil against his table. Merlin glared at him, but the boy paid no attention to it and continued the _tap-tap-tapping_.

_Calm down, Merlin. No magic in the classroom. No hitting in the classroom. No yelling in the classroom._

"When does this thing _end_?" Andi moaned for the sixth time in ten minutes.

_Goddammit! I can't handle another _two hours_ of this!_

Growling audibly, Merlin abruptly stood, chair falling to the ground behind him.

"Here's an idea! Pay attention! You have two ears to one mouth- there's a ratio for you! So _why the hell_ are you not listening? Can you all please shut the hell up for more than two seconds at a time? Are you even intelligent human beings, or just cackling old hens in disguise? Some of you may be here against your will, but damn it, _I _am here to _learn _something! Let me do it in peace, or _so help me_ I will magic your asses into next Tuesday!" He shouted, face turning red and hands shaking. All students had silenced and were now staring at him, and mister Tangyne actually stopped lecturing.

"Merlin…" Kara sighed, eyes full of concern.

"Mister Pendragon." Tangyne interrupted her, startling everyone. The man hardly ever addressed his students.

Merlin, realizing what he had just done, blushed heavily, hands now shaking for a completely different reason, anger swallowed up in embarrassment and nervousness.

The teacher scrutinized him for a moment, and then placed his large tome on his desk, wordlessly beckoning Merlin forward.

"As for the rest of you, class is dismissed early today." Unfortunately, this being a free and unrequired class, he could not assign them any work to do outside of the classroom itself.

All children squealed in delight and were quick to evacuate, soon leaving a shaking Merlin with a stern-looking mister Tangyne.

"Merlin, son, what was that?" The teacher asked wearily, running a hand through his few wisps of hair and plopping into his cushioned chair. The small warlock clasped his hands behind his back in shy embarrassment.

"I-I just got-"

"Angry?"

"Yeah."

A sigh from the obese instructor. He placed a thick hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Merlin, I can understand your frustration. Honestly, I can. But there's nothing that can be done about it." Merlin's head shot up, mouth hanging open.

"_What? _You can't just, I dunno, _tell them_ to shut up? I can't ever hear your lessons over their constant talking! They- _oh._" Immediately he lowered his head in repentance after the disrespectful outburst, wishing Kilgarrah could swoop in and swallow him whole.

Tangyne smiled sadly, beginning to arrange several stray pieces of parchment on his desk as he spoke again.

"No, you're right; I _could _ask them to be quiet, but I won't."

"_Wh-wha-"_

"You see, Merlin, these other children have lived their whole lives working hard and without much to support them. This experience- free education, being with their friends for such long periods of time, not doing physical labor for half the day- is completely foreign to them. You are growing up in one of the most privileged families in the land; so before you snap at them again, try seeing things from their perspective." He explained patiently, raising an eyebrow not unlike Gaius's.

The warlock stared at him, hands still frozen behind his back, blue eyes blown comically wide.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Merlin furrowed his eyebrows and absentmindedly blew a stray hair from his face.

"Sir, no offense, but please don't treat me like a snotty rich kid. I grew up in much harder conditions than what those others will ever experience. Have they ever lived in a drafty hut in a small village in the middle of nowhere? Have their mothers ever sobbed over their sickly and dying bodies- because winter was brutal that year and they had no spare blankets or medicine? Have their mothers ever been treated like common whores among their friends because they have a son whose father is in exile? Have they ever worked the fields for hours upon hours without rest, going to bed at sunrise and with bloody blisters coating every inch of their hands and feet? Have they ever had to work a demanding and dehumanizing job just to be able to send their poor mothers a large percentage of their measly pay? Have they? Because I did, once, and it was hellish." His eyes had suddenly aged beyond their years, looking like the eyes of a grizzled old man who had seen some serious things in his lifetime.

Tangyne was taken aback; fully aware of Merlin's unique origin story- including the fact that he had died at one point and then was reborn- but totally surprised that Merlin himself was aware of it.

"I- oh my. I suppose you're right, Little Emrys." He placated, breaking eye contact.

Merlin blinked.

"Right about what?" He asked innocently. His eyes were large and childish again, and the teacher recognized sincere confusion in those brown-blue pools of cuteness.

"Well, what you just said, my boy. You had a valid point." He said hesitantly. Merlin blinked again, looking as if he was speaking to an insane person.

"But- I didn't say anything, Sir." He stuttered, taking a single little step backwards.

Tangyne held in a gasp and swallowed thickly.

"Oh… nothing, young Prince." He returned his gaze to the many tests yet to be graded. The boy startled at the name; very few people had called him that.

"Since when am I a prince?" He asked, topic successfully changed.

"Well, you _are _the son of Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, correct? That makes you a prince."

"Well, shit. I don't want to rule a _kingdom_!" He cursed, pouting, hands still behind his back.

"Merlin, that's another thing; your language is deplorable! You cannot curse in the presence of children or of adults who have authority over you!"

"Really?"

"_Yes, _really! Where did you even learn those words?"

"Gwaine."

After several more minutes of light arguing over when it was appropriate to swear like a drunken man, Merlin was dismissed with a warning to watch his language and not yell at his classmates again.

Still, Tangyne never noticed Merlin slipping a small poultice behind the bookshelf on his way out.

Dorcas frowned grumpily as she trudged through the magnificent hallways of the mighty castle, having a wee bit of trouble locating the small classroom. It was too early for this, and she had already had a terrible day.

When she woke up almost four hours prior, her head had been spinning with the beginnings of a migraine. Her medicine for the unfortunate ailment had expired months ago, as it turned out, giving her nausea to top her raging head pains. Then, when she had received _another _tonic to cure both ailments, there had been no fresh water available to rinse the revolting taste from her mouth.

After that commotion, it had been chores for two hours, such as milking the cows, feeding the pigs, and plucking some slaughtered hens for dinner that night. After her jobs had been completed, her twin sister had returned from the water pumps with just enough water to bathe in, after the proper amounts for cooking food and drinking for the week had been set aside. However, as she had stripped down to get into the small tub of water, her obnoxious baby sister had 'accidentally' knocked it over, spilling all of the family's bathing water for the week. Half naked and furious, Dorcas had pulled on the only clean clothes she could find- her older brother's, left lazily on the drying line overnight- and had pulled the seven-year-old over her knee to spank her.

The crying little drama queen had then ran to their mother at the stables, tattling on the eleven-year-old and getting her a nice scolding for her ever-growing troubles.

And now she was lost in the hallways of the massive palace, not a soul in sight to assist her.

"Um… Excuse me?" She called out, voice echoing off the stone walls.

She sighed, pulling the large tunic up to cover her shoulders again, and continued going forward. She was surprised that the noisiness from her classmates wasn't there to lead her as usual.

"Hello?"

"Yeah?" Came a voice from behind her. She jumped almost four feet in the air, shrieking loudly and whipping around to face the source of the sudden voice.

"M-Merlin!" She exclaimed in surprise. The boy was looking at her in concern and slight confusion, big blue eyes focused solely on her. She blushed, suddenly very shy.

"Yeah?" He said again, shrugging nonchalantly. Why did he have to be so _cute_? His beautiful hair ruffled slightly as he tilted his head in question. She then noticed the rucksack slung over his shoulder, complimenting his worker's body shape perfectly and making her blush again, hurriedly looking back at his perfect face and hoping that her stupid mushiness wasn't too blatantly obvious.

"I-I uh, I w-was just a bit l-lost, and uh-" She trailed off, not trusting her voice to keep steady. He nodded in understanding, gracing her with a tiny smile and a raised brow. The slight head movement shifted his luscious hair to give her a fine view of his ears- slightly larger than what was considered normal, but not at all affecting how _gorgeous _he was.

Seriously, out of _all _the boys in her class, the one to come to her aid just _had _to be the most attractive one ever?

And suddenly she remembered that she was unwashed, sweaty from hours of hard work, clad in patchy boys' clothes that were two sizes too big on her, and with the neckline of her borrowed tunic threatening to touch her navel if she left it unsupervised. Blushing bright scarlet, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked intently at the wall directly behind his face.

"Yeah, these identical halls will do that to ya'." He said, his slight accent making her internally squeal. "But don' worry, I know this castle like the back of my hand!" He reassured, reaching out with his free hand and grabbing her by the sleeve, gently leading her in the direction from which she had come.

She tried her hardest to ignore how amazingly close he was to touching her skin and allowed herself to be lead forward.

"Bad day, eh?" He asked after a few seconds of silent trudging, not once looking back at his loyal lamb. She startled a bit, blushing from head to toe.

"Uh… y-yeah. How'd you know?" She whispered self-consciously. He turned back, giving her a kind half smile.

"It's quite clear; I mean, y'look really uncomfortable in those big clothes, and your face is all red, plus you look like you've been working very hard. Are you borrowing those robes?" He asked, graciously not commenting on her obvious odor.

She cleared her throat nervously.

"Um… yes, they're my brother's. Mine were dirty and didn't get washed on time. These are so big, I'm afraid of accidentally being immodest!" She internally froze up and winced at the unnecessary add-on she had so clumsily blurted out. Great, draw his attention to it- why not, Dork-Ass? Did he think she was too desperate now? Would he look and see her nearly exposed (not quite starting to develop yet) breasts? Did he think she wanted him to? Would he tell everyone she was a prostitute?

He paused in surprise, ceasing their walk, eyes widening before he blinked.

"Oh. Well…"

Dorcas looked away from his likely judgmental gaze, wishing they would get to the classroom already.

She gasped when there was suddenly something wrapping around her neck, and arms covering her ears and wrapping around her head. There was a flash of fear; he was trying to take advantage of her? With his magical powers, he could probably do so with minimal effort if he felt so inclined.

Then the arms fell away, leaving a warm ghost of their memory on her flesh, and she slowly opened the eyes she hadn't realized were clenched shut.

"There. That should help." He said simply. Her numb hand blindly made its way to her neck, finding a warm and soft cloth tied there. It was too big on her, easily covering most of her chest.

She looked up, teary-eyed, to find a naked-necked Merlin giving a soft grin to her. Her cheeks heated up, and her breath caught in her throat.

His act of kindness was exactly what she needed today.

"Thank you…. Thank you so much, Merlin." She whispered, fingers fisting her new favorite neckwear.

She was rewarded handsomely with a genuine and large smile from her crush, the kind of smile that splits the face and makes the person seem so much more beautiful than you could have previously imagined. The sight took her breath away immediately after she had just regained it.

"No problem, Cassie. And you can keep it; I've got plenty and I think red really suits you!" Merlin complimented, tilting his head charmingly.

Dorcas froze at that.

Cassie? Not Dork?

Heaven knows her parents had set her up for quite a few taunts with her unfortunate name; why _wouldn't_ a young boy take advantage of the opportunity? She shouldn't have been so surprised, though; Merlin was turning out to be more genuine and kindhearted than she could ever have thought before.

But still…. No boy her age had ever called her something so kind before.

She was so head-over-heels in love right now.

Merlin, oblivious to her internal explosions, smirked lightly and reached out a hand.

"Come on, let's get to class. I have a good feeling about today." Melting inside, Cassie hesitated for only a moment before gathering her courage and shoving her hand into his, relishing how warm it was, how calloused yet soft.

They happily marched through the silent halls, two small kids against the world.

_I have a good feeling about today, too…. Merlin…. _She thought, a small and secret grin reaching her concealed lips.

_I'm glad._ His voice replied in her head, making her jump and blush anew before hurriedly shoving all thoughts of romance into a locked box in the back corner of her mind. He didn't seem to notice; just continued leading her through several twists and turns.

When they finally reached the classroom, he politely held the door for her as they entered.

_Strange… It's so quiet… _Dorcas was instantly alarmed when there was no familiar sea of voices to greet her. All of the other students were there, facing the front of the classroom, quietly listening to Tangyne as he took roll.

"Ah, Miss Anyth. Young Merlin. Any reason for your tardiness?" Asked Tangyne, seeming more content than usual.

"Cassie got lost, so I helped her. I'll be walking her to class each morning from now on, so it won't happen again." Merlin assured. Cassie gasped a little, blush returning, throat frozen.

"Oh… Well, good for you two, then. Miss Anyth: where is your sister this fine morn?" He inquired, eyes fixed on his attendance sheet once again.

She sighed; her twin, Gladys, had to stay home to help with the surplus of chores. She went to say as much, but an odd feeling of pulled flesh made her snap her jaws shut again. Were her lips stuck together, or what?

The teacher looked up again, made an odd forgetful gesture and chuckled a little.

"Sorry, forgot. Please, take a seat."

She didn't move from her spot, reaching a shaking hand up to her mouth.

Her probing fingertips met smooth, unbroken flesh.

No lips.

No mouth.

Pupils the size of pins, she screamed in terror, but no sound came out. In a panic, she grabbed at her throat, starting to hyperventilate. The commotion made her fellow classmates turn to face the two standing at the back of the room.

She silently screamed again, because they too were missing mouths and some had teary eyes.

What kind of nightmare _was _this?

Her bloodshot eyes filled with salty water once more, and tears completely covered her cheeks as she clawed frantically at her throat, oxygen not seeming to enter her body.

"Woah, Cassie, calm down!" Merlin whispered in her ear, hands now on her small shoulders and shaking her gently. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him pitifully. "Listen, I put a spell on the room so that only a few people are allowed to speak while in it. Now we can hear the lessons!" She continued to cry, shaking her head and breathing heavily through her nose. She felt so betrayed.

Seeing her distress and heartbreak, he exhaled slowly and placed two fingers on her forehead, eyes flashing a bright golden color before fading back to her favorite shade of blue. Her skin parted, and her mouth fell open.

"H-how…. W-w-why?" She stuttered, voice raspy.

"Listen, I trust you, and you don't talk too much during class, so you can be exempt from the spell." He whispered sympathetically. She was numbly guided to her seat, staring blankly at her mouthless classmates. Thomas was glaring at her in envy, muddy fingernails picking at the blank spot where his mouth should have been.

Merlin sat down in his own seat, a few desks away from her own, and smirked happily as he could now hear the teacher loud and clear.

After a few minutes, Josiah's hand shot up.

"Yes, Josiah?" Tangyne asked with a raised brow. He nodded to Merlin, who muttered something and freed the boy from the spell.

The farmer's son gasped at the sudden relief, panting for a few moments before angrily pointing an accusing finger at Merlin.

"Teacher, he _cursed _us! He's being cruel and selfish!" He cried. Kara, one of the few other children not affected by the spell, instantly jumped to her friend's defense.

"Yes, because people like _you _gave him no other option!" The normally quiet girl scolded. Josiah blushed.

"Yeah, but taking our _mouths? _That's very extreme!" He insisted. The teacher only grinned with a slight hint of mischief.

"Really? I didn't notice anything. Now stop distracting everyone and be quiet." Then he was teaching again, leaving a gaping Josiah staring at his back.

"B-but-!" Merlin took a quick peek into the boy's head, learned that he was going to take advantage of his freed mouth to talk about his cow with Thomas, then hurriedly reapplied the spell to the boy before another syllable left his mouth.

_Although… They should be allowed to ask the teacher questions, and I can't keep undoing and redoing the spell over and over again… We'll need something they can use to temporarily speak to Teacher only…. _Merlin snapped his fingers excitedly, coming up with a brilliant idea.

With a few curious and disgruntled classmates watching his every move, Merlin grabbed his rucksack from the floor and delved into it, pulling out his neckerchief collection. He reverently ran his hand along the many cloths, trying to pick the best one. Finally he settled on his only pink one (the origins of which he didn't care to explain at that point in time) and laid it out on the tabletop, nodding distractedly along with Tangyne's droning lecture. He took out some purple and yellow paint and a few special paintbrushes as well.

With the smallest brush, he carefully crafted a small purple symbol in the upper corner, waiting for it to dry before strategically placing his pointer fingers in the correct spots.

"**álynne.**" He murmured, eyes flashing. The circular symbol glowed in response, and he knew the spell would hold.

Next he took up the larger paintbrush and dipped it in the small vial of yellow paint, artistically gliding it across the rough cloth in several places before nodding in approval of his artwork. It was now covered in quite possibly the girliest flower patterning ever.

He packed up his remaining neckerchiefs and the paint and tucked them back into the bag, standing and receiving the teacher's permission to speak.

"Alright, listen up, everyone. I have created a system for you to get around this conveniently and anonymously placed spell." There were several glares. "Those of you who are not affected do not need to use this. This," he brandished the pink neckerchief, "is your speaking privileges. If you need to ask the teacher a question, the current holder will pass it to you. When you tie it in a double knot around your neck, it will temporarily release you from the binding spell, permitting you to speak. You may only use this to ask or speak to the teacher. Once you are done with it, you give it to anyone else raising his or her hands. Are we clear?" Nods all around. "Great!"

He sat down again, setting the neckerchief on the table and waiting for the first person to raise their hand.

Nobody did.

"Oh, and Sir?" The amused teacher acknowledged him.

Merlin smirked wickedly, the power most likely having gone to his head.

"Can you go over ratios again? _Some _people were too busy talking and have no idea what they are. Or the fact that they're _mathematics._" Kara, Janea (a kind but sassy tomboyish girl) and Cassie giggled gleefully at the clear irritation and embarrassment on Carolinia's and Amaryllis's faces.

Edwin bolted up from his chair, raising his hand desperately.

"Yes, Mister Hanse?" The teacher questioned. Merlin happily passed the pink neckerchief down the row of desks until it reached an angry Edwin, who reluctantly tied the cloth around his throat loosely.

"Sir, he's being a bully! You're an idiot, Merlin Pendragon!" He shouted, suddenly rounding on the young warlock.

Merlin smirked. The purpose of painting the yellow flowers on the kerchief now became evident.

"Edwin, it's very hard to take your bullying seriously when you choose to wear something so _girly_."

**You like? I like.**

**Sorry once again for this taking so long. In addition to being scatterbrained, I also wanted the ending to not be incredibly rushed, so I took my precious time writing it. **

**Don't worry, these OC's are only plot devices, and the relationship between any girls (other than Freya) and Merlin will be strictly friendship/siblingship. If some of you noticed, I drew inspiration for the first neckerchief scene from Eren and Mikasa's first meeting. (I feel so cool, getting to make AOT references ;))**

**The first half of this chapter is mostly me venting out my frustrations with my classmates. I don't know how I get stuck in the noisy class every single time, but I do.**

**I named Janea after my best friend, and she wants me to clarify that it's pronounced JAY-NAH. Or Jane with an 'uh' sound added to the end.**

**And yes, Dorcas is a real name. Not used very often anymore, for obvious reasons, but still a name.**

**Welp, that's all I got for ya today, folks!**

**Have a great October (in case I don't update for awhile), and I wish ya'll the creepiest of Halloweens.**

**R&amp;R!**

**-Violet**


	30. Chapter 30: Impending Doom

**Never Quite Lost: Impending Doom**

"Why d'you have to go?" Merlin asked for the billionth time. Rolling his eyes, Arthur chose to ignore the twelve-year-old and continued sorting through his clothes to find his ceremonial attire. Where _had _Callum left those?

"Hellooo? Arthur?" The boy tried again, using the man's name instead of 'Dad'. He did that sometimes when he was extremely irritated with Arthur, and no matter how he was punished for it, Merlin refused to quit the habit. "Why do you hafta go? Where are you going?"

The king rolled his eyes again before turning to face his son. Merlin was lying on the large bed on his stomach, head propped on his arms and his legs kicking in the air behind him- the picture of innocence. And yet, what was that apprehension flickering behind his eyes?

"For the last time, _Merlin_, it's a diplomatic mission. We're visiting the kingdom of Amana to decrease the tensions between us and to discuss the possibility of future trade and even an alliance. Who knows? Maybe Julia will marry Prince Ewin and do everything _for_ us." The last part was intended solely as a jab at the boy's fierce overprotectiveness of a girl ten years his senior. Sure, they were siblings in all but blood, but his protectiveness of the woman was borderline possessive.

Arthur was sure that Merlin would know he was joking. He was nothing like Uther, who would marry off his _infant_ daughter if it meant a strong alliance. Arthur believed in marrying for love, not for opportunity. He would never force his daughter to marry anyone she didn't genuinely adore with all of her heart. Besides, wasn't she already courting Sir Ender?

But of course, Merlin's flaming temper took over his reasoning, so instead of seeing the evidence of an obvious taunt, he only saw red.

"Arthur, you marry off my _goddamn sister _like property and I will skin you ALIVE!" He screeched, eyes flashing a dangerous molten gold in obvious warning of punishments to come.

The king was taken aback for a full three seconds before regaining his cool.

"Calm down, my little hothead. Nobody's getting married off. Now help me find my ceremonial belt before I have you put in the stocks for your filthy mouth."

_Honestly, this boy has the randomest temper flare-ups I've ever seen. _One minute the boy was angelic and selfless, the picture of the perfect son, and the next he was a fiery force of Hell to be reckoned with if one felt so courageous as to approach him at all.

Blushing in shame, Merlin wiggled himself off of the newly-wrinkled bedspread- honestly, how was the boy _ever _a servant?- and plopped onto the floor before springing up and aiding in the search.

Arthur was just pulling his head out of a cabinet when Merlin's small voice piped up.

"Gaius is sick." Taken by surprise, the man gracefully hit his head on the cabinet shelf before he shot a glance over his shoulder. Merlin was on his hands and knees, peering into the daunting darkness underneath the bed he had rested on not five minutes prior. His face was turned away from Arthur, and he spoke almost nonchalantly as he supposedly focused on feeling around for anything belt-shaped. "I mean, you've noticed by now, right?" It sounded eerily closer to a statement than to an actual question.

Yes, in truth, Arthur _had _noticed how weary the old man had become. His eyes were steadily losing their lively spark, and just last week he had started getting unbearable bouts of coughing. According to Gwen, he had started coughing up flecks of blood yesterday, with no signs of it slowing down. He seemed more dazed, and harder of hearing, and his memory seemed to be on a downhill slope into amnesiac forgetfulness. Sometimes he would spout nonsense or speak to people who weren't there, and as of late he seemed to have the hardest time remembering names, no matter how well he knew the person.

"Yes, Merlin, I have." He answered solemnly. There was no point in lying. They could all tell- though none said it aloud- that Gaius' time was beginning to run short. That was why he and Gwen weren't all that eager to go on this trip. They wanted to be there for their oldest friend. Unfortunately, duty called, and with tensions between the kingdoms as high as they were, cancelling the long-planned-for event would almost be like signing a declaration of bloody, unnecessary war.

"Is he going…" The boy's breath hitched slightly, and to cover this he pulled himself deeper under the bed. Arthur watched with melancholy, belt momentarily forgotten. "Is he going to die?" His broken whisper was muffled by his progression into the depths of the unknown. By now only his undersized feet were visible, and just by looking Arthur could tell the boy was shaking with silent sobs.

How was Arthur supposed to explain death to innocent little Merlin? Or the imminent death of a close family member? Gwen had explained _what _it was to the boy long ago, but even if he remembered that, he surely couldn't grasp the effects death had on those left behind. How could he get this child to understand just what was going on?

"Merlin…" He sighed, scrubbing his face with a hand. Merlin's feet stopped wiggling as he waited for the obvious answer. "Yes, Merlin. I'm afraid he will." Just saying the heartbreaking words was enough to give him pause. Admitting it aloud was a half step away from acceptance, something he _really _didn't want to experience.

There came a sniffle, but that was it. No crying, no wailing, nothing.

"Merlin?" Arthur called, approaching in concern. The boy did nothing to reply other than wriggling forward until his little feet were almost gone, swallowed up by the shadows. Not liking this behavior from the normally open boy, the king squatted down and scooped up the booted feet just before they were out of reach. He pulled, and the boy came sliding out on his stomach. Merlin shamefully kept his face turned away from his father.

"Son, I know this is difficult, but everyone has to cope with death eventually." Arthur said gently, kneeling by the boy's side and rubbing his back comfortingly. He almost winced when he could feel each rib quite easily. "Also, we're going to fatten you up, understood?" He added as a half-hearted afterthought.

The small warlock was shaking under his hand. Merlin jerked his head around to stare up into Arthur's eyes. His face was devoid of all color, his lips pressed in a thin line, and his watery eyes were bloodshot and desperate. Snot was running down his face.

"_No! _You don't _get it_! _You're _the one who's leaving so you don't have to… to watch him _die_! You don't have to experience it! _You _don't have to _feel _it as his life just- just _leaves_! You won't have to watch his _soul _pry itself from his cold body! Don't _talk to me _about death!" He screamed, anger flashing in his blue eyes. Arthur sullenly wondered if the frustration was aimed at himself or at the magical burden of being able to see such unspeakable things happening.

But he _did _know death. He _had _seen a soul- a golden, beautiful magic that was basically the equivalent of a soul- tearing itself from its broken, failing body. He had watched- hell, he had _felt_\- that moment when what had formerly been an amazing boy- little more than a teenager- was suddenly nothing more than a shell of _what-were_s and _could-have-been_s.

And it was something that had all but broken _him_.

Breathing deeply to collect himself, Arthur reached under the child's armpits and pulled him into his lap. The boy was quite small for his age, barely over 4 ½ feet tall and weighing less than 80 pounds. Still, his lithe form- now covered with lean muscles developed from many years of combat training and archery- held promises of a tall, lean adulthood.

Clutched in Merlin's white-knuckled fist was his ceremonial belt, covered in sickeningly thick layers of dust and grime. When he tried to delicately pull it from him, Merlin only tightened his frantic grip.

Arthur gave up on the belt and encircled the child with his strong arms, pushing him to lean against his broad chest. The boy cooperated, but did nothing on his own, simply allowing Arthur to move him as he pleased. He kept his cerulean gaze blankly on the far wall.

The king tiredly rested his chin on the top of Merlin's little skull, the boy's curly raven locks tickling his nose. His body began a slow rocking of its own accord, and he began humming a familiar tune, the vibrations in his chest immensely comforting to the child. Breaking off his opponentless staring contest, Merlin coughed before nuzzling deeper into the embrace. He was so exhausted, and while that fatigue was all emotional, it affected him just as strongly in a physical sense. He just wanted to close his eyes, melt into his father's protective embrace, and forever be held in safety and security. Was a peaceful life too much to ask for? Why did he have to be so old at a mere twelve summers of age?

He had the irrational sensation of carrying two lifetimes' worth of emotional scarring.

"Dad?" Merlin asked quietly, voice hoarse. He would need to take his tonic soon.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I don't want you to go." He said simply, shakily shifting to stand on his knees so he could wrap his skinny arms around his father. He dug his face into Arthur's shoulder and held back his tears as best as he could. He released the dusty belt, letting it fall to the ground behind the king with a hollow _thump_.

His own eyes admittedly wet, Arthur placed a hand on the back of Merlin's head and held him as close as he could. The thought of leaving his son for even two days was agonizing enough, let alone a full week of separation.

He had gone on plenty of long trips before- so why did this time feel so final? What was this ominous thickness in the air that made leaving Merlin's side so frighteningly terrible?

"I know, Son. I know." He replied, kissing the boy's temple.

"You feel it too, right? Like something bad's gonna happen?" The warlock whispered anxiously, his grip tightening.

_Yes, Merlin, I do. _"Oh, child of mine. You'll be just fine without me." _How can you possibly be fine without me when I- the adult- am feeling so afraid of this, too? _"You'll have your mother, and Gaius, and Callum, and Julia… You won't be lonely." _But will you be _protected_? Will you be safe without me by your side? _"Besides, it'll only be for a week. I'll be back home and embarrassing you before you know it!" …_So why does it feel like I'll never see you again?_

Merlin stiffened and pulled away from the hug, wiping his face on his sleeve. At his father's concerned look, he put on the fakest smile Arthur had ever seen on the happy-go-lucky child. His lips were upturned, but his eyes _screamed _in agony.

"Well, I guess you're right." Merlin said, though his voice wavered a bit. He picked up the belt and dusted it off before giving it to the king. "Here you go, you'll need this. How'd it end up so far under there, anyway?" He asked, tactfully changing the subject.

Arthur's face turned beet red. The last time he had worn that belt had been on his wedding day, and… well, it had probably gotten under there sometime during his wedding _night_.

"George probably dropped it and left it there." He squeaked, keeping his thoughts firmly _away_ from anything related to 'mommies and daddies loving each other _very_ much', lest a young warlock with suspected telepathic abilities be scarred for life.

At the look on his father's face, Merlin giggled. His face lit up and for a moment everything seemed like it was perfectly normal.

But Arthur couldn't help but notice the way the giggle had almost become a sob before the boy quickly shut his mouth and turned away.

~oOo~

"Arthur! Come on!" Gwen called, beckoning her husband to join her in the carriage. "At this rate, we'll never reach Amana before morning!" She had already said all of her goodbyes, and was ready to get this done with as quickly as possible.

Arthur waved to placate her before turning back to Merlin, who was clutching his waist desperately.

"Merlin, I must be going." He pleaded in exasperation. The boy simply shook his head, rubbing his face against the rough chainmail. "Son, I thought we had already discussed this. Remember?" Behind Merlin, Hunith was crouched down, trying futilely to coax her son into relinquishing his hold.

Merlin shook his head again.

"Yes but I've changed my mind you can't go _please don't leave me I want you to stay something bad's gonna happen and I'll never see you again please stay I love you please stay-"_

"Merlin! Please, listen to me: I love you too, and because I love you, I will always return home, to you. There's nothing to worry about." Arthur cut in, leaning down to hug the boy. Then he took those little fingers and pried them from his armor's plating, hurrying to pass his wrists to Hunith, who guided the groping hands to latch onto her skirt. Firmly anchored by the familiar comfort from the very earliest moments of his childhood, Merlin gathered the strength to force his head up, to watch his father's retreating back.

"_Dad_! Don't leave! Da_dee_! Come back!" Emotionally overloaded, Merlin didn't have it in him to completely release his mother's soft skirts; instead, he stayed where he was, reaching a single hand towards his leaving father, screaming, begging.

Difficult as it was, Arthur didn't stop until he was safely inside the carriage. If he dared to look back at that pitiful crying face, he would most certainly lose all willpower and refuse to leave.

He waited until the coach was miles into the forest before he finally relaxed into his seat.

Still, he didn't get any semblance of sleep that night, kept awake by the haunting screams of one too young to sound so _horrified_.

~oOo~

"Merlin, son, you need to take the tonic. You know this." Hunith softly scolded, offering the small vial once more. The liquid sloshed invitingly with the movement.

"He's… He's _gone, _Mamai. And Gaius is…" Merlin's eyes were glassy and wide. He hadn't been very coherent during the seven hours since the king and queen's departure.

"I know, _mo leanbh._ Everything is fine." She reassured, pressing the little bottle to his lips. He drank it without complaint, though he kept staring almost fearfully at Gaius, who was watching the proceedings rather dazedly.

After the liquid was gone, the elderly man tottered over to the table and began to clean a small bowl.

"Mamai? I'm scared." Merlin whimpered, not explaining any further. She rubbed his back and then waited until his cough-up was complete before pulling him into her arms and hugging him.

"Everything's absolutely fine, Michael. Just take your pills twice daily and those voices will go away." Gaius chipped in, making Merlin wail.

Seeing that the deterioration of Gaius' mind was only distressing her son further, Hunith bade the mumbling man goodnight ("Is it morning _already_? I could have sworn it was just Saturday. *cough* Curse these old joints.") before carrying her undersized son to their chambers.

As the stars slowly started showing up, she helped the lethargic child into his pajamas and brushed his hair. Julia stopped in and reclined in the rocking chair, silently watching the pair.

"Mama-eeee… I'm scaaaared." Merlin repeated. His lip started quivering, and he looked so much younger than twelve.

"I know, little one. Everything is fine." And with a kiss to his temple, she began to sing.

"_I've made some wrong turns, several times,_

_Pulled myself through, blood and fire,_

_Bad decisions… But it's alright,_

_Now that I've you-ou-ou-ou, in my life,"_

Even though his eyes were closed, Merlin could still see the emotional smile that pulled at his mother's lips. He could tell that this song meant a lot to her, whether it connected on a personal level or was passed down through her family.

"_Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood,_

_Why are they after blood?_

_Don't let them slow you down,_

_Mistaken, always second-guessing,_

_Underestimated,_

_Show you're still around,_

_Oh-woah,_

_Oh my dearest, please,_

_Do not ever, ever feel,_

_Like you're less than,_

_Less than perfect,_

_Oh my darling, please,_

_If you ever, ever feel,_

_Like you're worthless,_

_Know you're perfect_

_To _me."

To emphasize this, she gently tapped her finger on the tip of his nose, taking the edge off of his grieving. He smiled weakly at her, and she continued.

"_You're very mean,_

_When you talk,_

_About yourse-eh-eh-elf, _

You are wrong.

_Change those feelings,_

_That you hold,_

_Stop this self-loathing, son,_

_Do as you're told:_

_Uncomplicated,_

_Look how big you'll make it,_

_Let go of your hatred,_

_Bring honor to your name,_

_You are enough,_

_The best son I could dream of,_

_Share with me your demons,_

_You, young one, aren't to blame,_

_Oh-woah,"_

Even as he drifted off to sleep with a wonderful warmth and new respect blossoming inside of him, Merlin's mother continued to sing her lullaby, determined to carry him into his dreams on a gentle, peaceful breeze.

"_Merlin, sweetheart, please,_

_Don't you ever, _ever _feel,_

_Like you're less than,_

_Less than perfect,_

_Oh, my baby, please,_

_If you ever, ever feel,_

_Like you're nothing-_

_You are _perfect_,_

_To me._

_Every-"_

The door flew open with a _bang_.

**Sorry for the cliffy! This just felt like the ideal place to end this chapter.**

**For those of you who aren't aware (I mentioned this in the AN of 'Itty Bitty'): I have finally written out a plan for a 4-to-5-part story arc thingy. So this will span over several chapters. Unfortunately, I have also decided that I will be ending this story soon. I'd say it'll get to chapter 35 or so, and then I'll do an epilogue, and voila! Complete! Sorry if this upsets you, but I don't want to keep dragging this on and making it annoying. Also, I want to be comfortable with this story when I end it. Right now I'm at the point where writing it has gotten less enjoyable (only by a slight bit, though) and I don't want to end it fifty chapters later with a sour attitude. I think this story is just ready to end soon, y'know? **

**Yeah, lots happening.**

**ATTENTION: I am going to go back through all the chapters and name them based on the word(s) at the beginning of each. (For example, **_**Never Quite Lost: **__**Impending Doom**__**) **_**This will make it easier for you guys and for me to navigate the chapters and re-read favorite parts or look up information mentioned earlier. I don't know if it'll tell you I'm updating the story each time I change the titles, but if it does, ignore it. My next update won't be for another week **_**at least**_**. Hope this doesn't cause any confusion!**

**The song above was written based on Pink's **_**F***ing Perfect (Clean Version). **_**Unfortunately, this being in medieval times, the lyrics didn't quite match up… so I rewrote a majority of it. Feel free to listen to the original song to get a feel for the rhythm, though!**

**Also, I know the song has almost NOTHING to do with the situation that's got Merlin so stressed, but it'll factor in and make total sense later. Just ignore the inconsistencies and enjoy Hunith's presence! (Man, I haven't written her in a while, have I? And her, singing? It's been like a million chapters since she last sung. Whoops.)**

**Anyways, that's all I've got for you tonight, folks!**

**Did you like this suddenly serious chapter? What were your thoughts? Please leave a review!**

**GUYS, CAN WE SET A GOAL OF 100 REVIEWS BY THE TIME I END THIS STORY, AT CHAPTER 35 OR 36? It would be my very first story to ever break 100 reviews- it's already my first story to pass 70! It would mean the world to me! **

**Love you all!**

**Have a great week!**

**-Violet**


	31. Chapter 31: Heroic

**Gah! FINALLY! It took me FOREVER to get this written! Sorry- my excuse is simply **_**life**_**. It loves getting in the way of fanfictioning!**

**Now, some of you may be confused, as there used to be a completely different chapter here. As I said in chapter 34, the Amana arc I'd planned for the last few chapters of this story was way too dark, and I wanted a happier ending than the one I'd had planned. So I'm deleting the chapters of Amana and reposting with new chapters. **

**The last chapter is confirmed to be chapter 35.**

**Thank you to all of my supporters!**

**Note: the Saxons play a bit of a different role here- in the series, they're mostly Morgana's personal army, performing her tasks. In the legend, they were simply known as Arthur's enemies. Here, we're going more by legend, meaning they're mostly just Arthur's enemies, so that there's a reason for them still being around after Camlann.**

**Another note: I know almost nothing about archery or its terminology, so if I get anything wrong, I apologize in advance. I've Googled it as much as I can in terms of attire, but mostly all I got was blocked websites selling those things. :/**

**Never Quite Lost: Heroic**

"Lady Hunith! Lady Hunith!" Callum cried, barging in without a thought. Julia darted from her seat in surprise while Hunith cradled Merlin close and stood as well.

"What is it?" She demanded worriedly. Merlin was whimpering against her chest as he was forcibly jarred from sleep.

Callum was pale as a sheet, eyes wide and red hair sticking up in several directions. His chest was heaving. "We're being attacked!" He exclaimed. Hunith sucked in a breath and held Merlin closer.

"By whom?" She asked.

"The Saxons." Hunith cursed under her breath while Julia wordlessly crossed the room to stand by her side, grasping her sleeve in concern. The Saxons had been a long-time enemy of the Pendragons and Camelot, ruthlessly killing whomever it took to get closer to invading the kingdom. They'd never been successful, though there had been a few close calls, but Uther, Arthur, their ancestors and the loyal knights had always prevailed.

And now none of them were here to win the battle.

"They must have known Arthur and the knights would be gone." Julia commented, face as pale as Callum's. "What should we do?" She asked Hunith. In the royals' absence, Merlin's mother was put in charge of emergency efforts, being a surprisingly skilled strategist and level-headed leader.

The woman clenched her teeth and glanced down at her young son- blinking in surprise to see that he was calmly looking up at her. At his silent request, she put him on his feet and spared a moment to grab his blanket and drape it around his thin shoulders. "How long do we have until their arrival?" She was addressing Callum now.

"Sir Gallant predicts they'll be upon us within thirty minutes, My Lady." He informed.

"Good, that gives us some time to prepare. Callum, I want you to rally the servants and the cooks and have them help you get all women, elderly, and children to the dungeons as quickly as possible- it's safest there. Julia, you and Maria-" she gestured to the maidservant standing in the hallway, awaiting direction, "- will gather up all the blankets, pillows, food, water, and chamber pots you can find and get those to the dungeons as well. Understood?" Julia looked hesitant at leaving her honorary aunt behind.

"Why can I not help you?" She insisted, drawing up to her full height. Hunith opened her mouth to answer, but Merlin was faster.

"You need to keep her safe." He said in a strange monotone, face expressionless. He was apparently still being affected by his father's absence. Julia furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Who? Hunith?"

"No." Merlin answered simply, stepping forward and placing two palms on her abdomen, splaying his fingers gently. He cocked his head and his eyes slowly simmered gold as he studied her stomach. Then he looked up to meet Julia's eyes. "Her."

Julia paled further, breath catching in her throat. "You- you mean-?" She stammered, putting her own hands over his smaller ones, cupping her flat stomach. Her voice apparently gave out, not letting her complete the question.

"Yes. Now go, Sister." He said softly, voice full of quiet urging. She choked up, eyes teary, before nodding and rushing out the door, grabbing a worried-looking Maria's wrist and pulling her down the hall at a sprint.

Hunith was staring in shock when he turned back to her, but didn't waste time demanding answers. Instead she forced the bubbling joy and anxiety into the back of her mind and focused on what was important.

"Son, you should join her." She told him, kneeling down to his level. "You're but a child- you are to be protected." She cupped his precious little face with both hands, stroking his cheek with her thumb. What had she ever done to deserve her little angel? He brought so much light to her life, and she had never been more than a mere field worker in a tiny village where few lived. He meant the world to her. He reminded her of the man she loved, with his giant blue eyes and compassionate soul. She could never, ever risk him. She'd lost him so many times, and she would not do so again. Life without Merlin wasn't a life at all. She tried to convey this thought process through the pleading in her eyes as she stared into his intelligent ones, which were analyzing her without a single change of expression.

His little hand lifted to cup her own cheek, the other keeping the blanket secured around his frame. The corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly and he sighed just a little. She knew that as his tired 'I've made up my mind' face. "And you're but a woman- yet you're not joining Julia, are you?" He asked knowingly.

"My Lady, time is of the essence." Callum reminded from the doorway, where he'd just reappeared after sending out a mass message to the hired help of the castle. She gave him a nod.

"Good. Tell the knights to get ready for battle and await further instruction." She ordered. He gave a small bow and ran off, leaving the mother and child alone once more. She brushed a stray lock of curly black hair- oh so black as a crow's wing- from Merlin's face with a shaky smile. "You're too smart for your own good." She whispered.

His hand left her face and covered her own. "I'm going to help." He stated, voice completely without second thoughts.

"No, Merlin, you're not." She argued immediately, forgoing stroking his face for gripping his shoulders. His hand fell to his side.

"Is féidir liom cabhrú, mar sin beidh mé." He responded, unfazed by her objection. It almost unnerved her, how unnaturally calm he was. He was usually so explosively expressive.

Hunith's eyes widened and she shook him a little. "Tá tú mo leanbh. Ní bheidh mé a chur tú i dochar ar bhealach." She insisted, almost desperate. He smiled- actually smiled- at her, shaking his head.

"You need me." Was his only retort. But it was enough. She immediately knew that they _did _need him. He was a powerful warlock and a skilled archer, and with the best knights and the fiercest warrior absent, they needed all the help they could get. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

Frowning, she pulled his face closer to hers, making firm eye contact and enunciating her statement clearly. "You _will _stay close to me. You _will _stay out of the fray." She commanded. He let a sigh out of his nose and nodded resolutely.

"Understood, Mamai." Then she pulled him into a tight hug and didn't release him until her fears were back under control. For the moment, at least.

~oOo~

After all the women, children, and elderly had been evacuated to the securest levels of the castle, the knights, the men, and some of the older squires made quick work of setting up a defensive perimeter. Thankfully the number of remaining able fighters was greater than expected, which took a great weight from Hunith's shoulders. She stood on the roof of the castle, overlooking the square in the foreground and the forest boundaries beyond the walls in the distance. So far she saw none of the Saxon invaders, but the scouts (which Hunith had had Merlin cloak in invisibility) had reported back saying that they would be upon the gates soon. The previous estimated time of arrival had thankfully been overestimated, as forty minutes had passed and the army was still a good twenty minutes away.

Merlin stood solemnly at her side, bow leaning against the concrete wall keeping them from falling to their deaths, and a large quiver of arrows adorning his small back. She had to admit that she felt a swell of pride seeing him outfitted in such mature attire, such as the bracer, bowstring glove, protective vest, and insulated green shirt. His usual neckerchief- a purple one to better match his shirt, of course- was tied around his head, much like she wore hers, to keep his unruly hair out of the way. He scanned the darkened distance with calculating and alert eyes, looking truly like a professional warrior.

"It's _his_ baby," Merlin said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. In the darkness of late evening she could see him gesturing nonchalantly at one of the nearer knights, one who was going through the marketplace, torch in hand, in search of any remaining civilians who had been missed in the evacuation. She could barely make out his features, but they were familiar enough to recognize.

"Sir Ender?" She asked, mostly to confirm that he was pointing to the man she was looking at. He nodded. "I'd guessed as much- he _is _courting her, after all." She sighed. "I just can't believe they've been-" She cut off, deciding not to share that thought with a twelve-year-old. He just nodded along in agreement, focus mostly on the woods in the distance.

"I wonder what her name'll be," her son commented distractedly, craning his neck to see better before slamming his eyes shut.

"What is it?" She asked in worry, kneeling beside him. He was so short that when she was on her knees, he was only taller than her by about an inch. She hoped he'd hit his growth spurt soon.

He put his pointer fingers to his temples and jerked his head minutely from side to side, expression searching. "I- I think... I think they're already here!" He exclaimed, eyes flying open again. He lurched forward and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, "INCOMING!" and retrieving his bow, getting into a firm stance with one hand at the ready to grab his first arrow. The knights below scattered into various battle positions, drawing swords and hefting shields, some sharing their protection with the less-trained civilian fighters. Sirs Kithro and Davis, the ones blockading the gate, hunkered down in preparation for the incoming horde of enemies.

Lady Mary, a brunette noblewoman, emerged from the nearby tower, clothed similarly to Merlin and bearing the same weapon. She was the best female archer in the land, and had managed to convince the knights and her husband to let her help in defending the castle. "Ready, Little One?" She asked Merlin, skidding to a halt beside him and getting into position.

He jerked his head in the affirmative and continued eyeing the land beyond the walls. "They're here; I can sense them- over seven hundred." He informed. "But _why can't we see them?_" Hunith could hear the anxiety in his voice.

"Hold position!" She yelled down to the knights, who nodded once to show they'd heard, not taking their eyes from the lower marketplace. Just then, Callum approached with a lit torch for Hunith to take and a fresh supply of flammable arrows for the two archers in charge of long-distance defense while the men with the crossbows waited on top of the wall. Then he ran back inside to fulfil other duties.

"Hang on..." Merlin muttered, taking up one of the special projectiles and lighting it from Hunith's torch. He loaded it onto his bow and pulled the string taut, taking careful aim.

"Little One, you're not supposed to fire outside of the wall!" Lady Mary argued, apparently catching on to his plan. "You could hit one of the archers on top!"

"If I don't, we won't be able to see the Saxons in time." Merlin mumbled under his breath, putting all of his focus into perfectly aiming the arrow. "They're relying on the element... of... surprise... so they've got to have-" he loosed the arrow, "-camouflage." Hunith watched in surprise as the projectile easily sailed over the far wall, an impossible distance, and landed in the field on the outskirts of the forest. She suspected he might have used magic to enhance its trajectory.

"Damn..." Lady Mary cursed, the other two not bothering to correct the unladylike language in their shock. Where the flaming arrow landed, at least five human bodies were seen jumping away from it in all directions, previously unseen. One of them had caught on fire and was rolling frantically to put himself out. There was a multitude of shouting as the enemy- who had all been clothed in dark clothes, forgoing the usual bright white dragon emblem, and wore cushioned boots to quiet their footsteps- realized they'd been found out and abandoned the idea of stealth.

Cursing some more, Lady Mary followed Merlin's example and lit her own arrows, firing them into various areas of the field to illuminate the Saxon army further, Merlin following suit. Hunith shouted orders to the footsoldiers while the archers began their defensive strike on the advancing Saxons.

"KNOCKING ON THE DOOR! BE READY TO ANSWER!" She screamed. Sir Ender called back an affirmative and continued to stand at the ready. Some of the squires audibly whimpered nervously, having never before faced battle, but thankfully stood their ground.

It wasn't long before all hell broke loose.

The Saxons had brought their own archers, who soon took out half of Camelot's wall force, the archers bearing the Pendragon symbol falling into the dark oblivion at the bottom of the wall. After that they made quick work of the two guarding the gate, bursting right through and slowly advancing until they were in the lower part of the marketplace.

"Little One, I've got the farthest ones if you can handle any that get past me." Lady Mary proposed, already loosing four arrows straight into the chest cavities of several unfortunate Saxons. Merlin took up the job of making sure none reached the main courtyard. Hunith could only watch in awe as his shots easily found home in multiple soldiers at once, sometimes taking out three Saxons with one arrow. His aim always held true. His facial features had hardened into stark determination as he pulled back his bowstring time after time after time, each shot making monumental impact. No Saxon ever made it past the last merchant's stall.

"Good job, Sweetheart." She praised genuinely, not breaking his concentration but getting a thin smile in response.

Soon, however, he ran out of arrows, as did Lady Mary, and then they could only watch in horror as the footsoldiers were quickly overwhelmed. Hunith bit her lip. Where was Callum with the next batch?

"Peter!" Merlin cried, lurching forward and extending a hand, magically throwing a Saxon away from one of the civilian fighters just as he'd been about to lose his right arm. 'Peter' looked stunned for a moment before saluting his thanks and rushing back into the fray. Merlin apparently found inspiration in this, as he continued aiding from afar through his magical abilities- if only he could remember just how much power he had! Then he could easily end this battle! But Hunith couldn't pull him aside to tell him right now- she feared what reaction he'd have to such sudden exposure to so much information. If he broke down- which she was fairly certain he would- they'd be without another great fighter, and this battle would most certainly be lost.

By the time Callum arrived with two armfuls of arrows, the courtyard was half full of Saxon invaders and the knights of Camelot trying desperately to ward them off. Lady Mary set to firing into the fray immediately, cursing again when it made little impact on the horde of enemies. Merlin tried to help, but Hunith could see from the clear frustration in his eyes that he was making little difference as well. They'd been delayed for too long- the damage was dangerously close to being irreparable at this point.

"HOLD THEM OFF!" Hunith screamed down to the remaining knights.

"WE'RE TRYING, MILADY!" Sir Ender cried back, deflecting a blow from a large Saxon and shoving his blade through his sternum. "THERE ARE TOO MANY!"

Hunith's stomach flipped as she realized that they were losing; and if they didn't do something, _fast_, they would be defeated.

_I'm on it. _Came a voice in her head. It was- it was Merlin's voice! But she hadn't heard it through her ears- it had resonated solely in her mind! In her thirty-plus years of raising AND re-raising Merlin, he'd never communicated with her in this way; she'd always been told that it could only be used between fellow magic-users. And she certainly wasn't magical. Then again, Merlin was powerful enough that he could probably easily manipulate the rules of it.

That made her startle again- was he able to hear her thoughts? She hadn't said anything aloud, but he'd certainly responded to it- or maybe he'd been replying to Sir Ender's cries? But why communicate with _her _if that was the case?

He didn't telepathically answer like she'd been half-expecting, instead leaping onto the stone barrier that was keeping them from possibly falling to the courtyard below.

"_Merlin_!" Hunith screamed in terror as her son- her precious, only son- stood shakily on the ledge, wind threatening to push him over and a few crossbow bolts flying dangerously close to him. She leaped for him, but he dodged her grasping hands and used his magic to gently keep her back, along with Lady Mary, who yelled in protest.

"I'll handle this, Mamai." The tiny warlock reassured his mother, who was now sobbing in fear for him.

"What are you doing?" She cried, fighting against the invisible barrier with all of her power. It was no use.

Merlin raised his arms to the sky and bellowed, in the deepest voice she'd ever heard, "**O drakon, fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro!**" What was he doing? His eyes glowed so brightly that she could see the golden light emanating from them at her distance. She was so hopelessly confused. The spell sounded familiar, she knew it did, but why-?

Kilgarrah. He was summoning Kilgarrah to battle.

Gasping to reign in her sobs, Hunith watched with relief as her beautiful, precious baby jumped back down from the barrier and released them both from the spell.

"I've called on Kilgarrah and Aithusa for help- we just need to get our men to safety before they arri-" He informed them, being cut off when his mother launched herself at him, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. She started sobbing into his hair.

"Don't you _ever _do that again, Merlin Pendragon!" She scolded tearily over his head. "_Never _again!" He was still for a few seconds before quickly returning the embrace.

"I won't, Mamai. I promise." Then he wormed out of her grip and returned to his battle station, taking up his forgotten bow and loosing dozens of arrows on the enemy, all the while screaming, voice magically amplified, "CAMELOT, TAKE COVER! DON'T LET _THEM_!" The response was instantaneous- the knights, sole remaining squire, and civilian men immediately rushed to find cover in abandoned buildings and inside the castle, quickly turning back around in the doorways and warding off the panicking Saxons as they too scrambled for cover. Soon all Camelot soldiers were out of harm's way, the Saxons mostly trapped out in the open space of the courtyard they'd so desperately sought to take over not five minutes earlier.

That was when the loud beating sound of giant leathery wings became clear. There was a mighty roar, accompanied by a smaller- but no less intimidating- one, and the sudden sight of a large golden dragon soaring into view, a smaller white one right at its side. _Kilgarrah_. Hunith suddenly recalled the first time she'd met the magnificent creature, all those years ago- in the woods of Ealdor, with a sick, frail infant Merlin strapped to her back. He hadn't changed in appearance, and age did nothing to detract from his frightening yet welcomed visage.

The giant reptiles reached the courtyard and hovered in place, Kilgarrah looking to Merlin expectantly. The force of the wind their wings stirred up sent several Saxons flying, leaving the rest to scream in terror and try futilely to hide. Hunith watched in curiosity as the beast tilted his head, Merlin doing the same, the two apparently sharing a silent conversation that only a Dragonlord and his dragon were privy to. Then the golden creature dipped his head in submission. "As you wish, Merlin." He said aloud before flapping his wings harder and ascending further above the kingdom. Aithusa, in contrast, went lower, swooping down over the heads of the shouting men and breathing pure flame on the ones trying to take cover behind houses and market stalls. They were dead instantly, burned to a crisp after only a second's exposure to the powerful fire.

Before Hunith could watch any further, Merlin whipped around and grabbed both women's wrists, making Hunith drop her torch, dragging them into the tower. "RUN!" He screamed, shoving them inside and slamming the door behind himself.

Mere seconds later, the only thing they could see through the small window in the door was _fire_. It was blindingly bright to the point that all of them had to turn away and cover their faces, and the force behind it was enough to stir up an even greater, more humid, wind. It got uncomfortably hot inside the top of the tower, and the light didn't die down for almost a full minute. Finally, however, it stopped. Lady Mary was the first to uncover her face, blinking furiously against the sudden resumed darkness and the invasive smoke drifting to the ceiling through the window. Hunith followed her example, then Merlin, who went instantly to the door, shoving the hot wood open with his shoulder and running back onto the rooftop, where some of the stone had black patches of charring. He leaned against the barrier to look down on the courtyard, his mother doing the same.

She felt immediately repulsed at the sight of all the dead bodies that lay smoldering on every surface. They were barely recognizable as _human_. The houses were burnt as well, though most were still standing, and through the windows, to their great relief, the faces of stunned knights and civilian fighters could be seen peeking out. There was no movement in the courtyard- at least until the smaller of the dragons landed amidst the carnage and ruffled her wings in satisfaction. Kilgarrah soon did the same, though he had a hard time fitting, as he was almost thrice Aithusa's size.

Hunith went to cover Merlin's eyes from the gore and death below, but he was already sprinting for the stairs. Sighing, she went after him, calling his name fruitlessly. "Merlin! Get back here!" Lady Mary stayed behind to watch for any straggling Saxons.

They emerged in the ruined courtyard, Merlin headed straight for the two dragons. First he tackled Aithusa in a hug around her long neck, rubbing behind the spines sticking up from her head, and then he turned to Kilgarrah, hopping over a pile of human remains to reach the larger dragon. Hunith kept her distance, swaying nervously in the smoky darkness, her eyes locked on her young son.

Merlin actually produced a genuinely happy laugh- Hunith only hoped it was due to his friends being there, and not because of what said friends had just done- and wrapped his short arms around the creature's leg. "Kilgarrah! Aithusa! Thank you so much!" He cried, the golden dragon dipping his head in a bow.

"It was our pleasure, Dragonlord." Aithusa chirped in agreement. Merlin laughed again and buried his face in the dragon's foreleg.

"You saved us!" The reptilian visitors didn't reply this time, though Hunith swore that, in the faint light of the moon, she saw a smile pull at the corners of the ancient beast's fanged mouth.

~oOo~

Merlin watched with unrestrained joy as the knights, squire, and civilian men emerged from their hiding places, most unscathed, though some sporting a few injuries that Julia could easily treat later. The impending doom he'd sensed coming earlier had been destroyed! Nothing weighed down on him anymore! He felt freed! The separation anxiety was gone!

Wait 'til he told Arthur about how he saved the day by himself! (Okay, maybe he'd had help, but he was sure the others wouldn't mind if he stretched the truth just a tiny bit to impress his dad.) He'd be so proud! Maybe he'd even make Merlin a knight or one of their official archers- then he wouldn't have to take over rule of the kingdom!

Adrenaline was still coursing through him, though he knew it would be gone soon- and when it was, he'd be _feeling _this. He was pretty sure he'd be unable to move for a few days after this experience. But for now, he enjoyed the positives of the aftermath and kept his mind and eyes firmly away from the smoldering corpses that surrounded him on all sides.

"You two are the best!" He praised his dragons once again- probably for about the fifth time in a row. They didn't seem to mind, though. Aithusa was preening proudly and Kilgarrah was chuckling through their bond, a deep rumbling sound that Merlin loved.

From behind him, Merlin heard Sir Ender reporting the numbers to his mother. He turned to look at them, but it was too dark, so he just resumed his reunion with his beloved friends. They'd always been there for him in his time of need, and he felt a deep love for them seeded in his very core. They were more than dragons that he, as a dragonlord, had reign over; they were his guardian angels, his protectors, ones he didn't always get to see but could always rely on when mortal danger came with a vengeance. He got this sense of several lifetimes' worth of trust when he was around them.

And so it was a depressing ordeal when Kilgarrah announced that their duty was complete and that they needed to leave so Merlin could tend to his own duties. He shed a few tears but kept the rest bravely at bay, resisting the urge to call them back simply so they could be with him. He knew they had important things to do, too, and that he could always call on them for more social reasons later, when the kingdom wasn't in shambles and full of dead bodies and hiding women, children, and elderly people.

He sighed and began the march back into the castle. This would be a long night.

~oOo~

Lady Mary was nice enough to volunteer to accompany Merlin as he took care of clean-up while his mother focused on aiding the people in the dungeons and getting them back up to ground level. The first stop was to Gaius' chambers, where Merlin recalled him mentioning a special book was kept- a book of spells. It was fairly easy to find, and soon he'd located the spell for restoring damaged structures. He was a pretty powerful warlock, he knew, but some things- especially such big tasks- required him to actually use an incantation.

He stood back on the roof, beside his abandoned bow and quiver, and extended his arms over the courtyard. "bétan." He said firmly, eyes flashing gold. He watched with satisfaction, Lady Mary with awe and shock, as the homes, stalls, and stables were repaired instantly, before their very eyes. Pleased, he then turned his attention to the charred bodies of the Saxon army- Lady Mary had earlier determined that all of them had been successfully dispatched. "áberan." A great wind arose and swept up the ashes, carrying them away and leaving nothing behind of the once formidable horde.

"All done!" He exclaimed, turning to Lady Mary. She offered a kind smile and together they went to the dungeons, where Lady Mary said a quick goodbye and went to join her husband and son. Merlin smiled and continued through the torch-lit halls, moving against the crowd making its way up the stairs and out into the castle and courtyard. He finally located his mother, rushing over to give her a joyful hug, pausing to cough into his elbow. He just had his tonic a few hours ago, hadn't he? But he could feel a cough-up in the near future. Oh, well. He supposed that the level of stress and physical strain had triggered another attack- at least it was a slow burner this time. "Mamai!" He cried happily, running over and jumping onto her back- she was on her knees, facing away from him. "We did it, Mamai! Everything's back to—normal…" His voice turned to a whisper as he peered over her shoulder- _why is it shaking?_\- to see what she was leaning over. "No…"

Julia wiped the tears from her red face and scooted closer to pull him into her arms while Hunith continued crying into her hands. "I'm s-sorry, Little Brother. He-" she choked up before powering on, "-he went peacefully, at least." More tears escaped her eyes and she sniffled before starting to cry again.

"No! _NO!_" Merlin cried, writhing in her grip- but careful of the baby, of course- and scrambling to his feet. "No! H-he's not-! _NO!_" He stomped his foot, not caring how childish this was.

Hunith lifted her head to gaze on her son, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy. She didn't bother to hide her sobbing, not bothering to attempt speech. She simply reached her arms out for him, eyes pleading. This gave Merlin pause; he'd never seen his mother so… weak… before. So vulnerable. She was so strong, she was his rock! But now she was practically begging him to come to her. And hell if he could say no to that. Teary-eyed, Merlin stumbled into her arms and laid his hand against her chest, trying not to cry, _don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._

An uncomfortable pressure built up behind his face with his efforts to keep the sobs at bay, and eventually he couldn't hold it back anymore and simply cried into her tunic, screaming and pleading with Gaius to please stop lying there, so still and _empty_. To stop peacefully smiling, to get up and hug him, too, because he would settle for nothing… for nothing… less. His begging fell apart and then he was just screaming, the sound muffled by Mamai's tunic. She was lightly rubbing his back, but she was crying, too, so suddenly his world seemed upside-down. He'd always received comfort when he needed it before, and now there was nobody around who wasn't in need of comfort themselves to do it for him. And right now he really, really needed it.

His throat was so raw now- how long had he been cradled in his sobbing mother's arms, shouting and crying and yelling? Minutes? Hours? Days?

He thought he'd be ready for the day when Gaius would pass on. Well, he'd _hoped _he'd be ready. Because they all knew the old man had been dying. But now that he was gone… Merlin let out another sob and coughed when it put too much pressure on his lungs.

Why was Mamai still crying? Oh, right, because Gaius had been like a brother to her. And he'd mentored Merlin when he'd been forced to leave Ealdor… When he was seventeen… _Ow! _There was a sudden fierce agony in the very back of Merlin's head, shooting from the top of his spinal column to his toes and then right back up into his skull, spearing his brain. He howled in pain, but it sounded no different from his sorrowful wails, so it went unnoticed. He panted and cried again, this time in grief once more. What had he been thinking about?

Hiccuping, Merlin whined and curled in on himself.

**I know, dark stuff, right? But that's about as dark as it gets, as opposed to the Amana arc, where it would only get darker and darker. *sigh* **

**Tell me whatcha think! I think this was a big improvement, honestly, but I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

**Fangirl's note: I TOTALLY wanted to call this chapter Attack on Camelot and then do lots of Attack on Titan references, starting with the theme song, but I felt that that would be too silly for a mostly solemn chapter. :/ Still, it's the thought that counts, I s'pose.**

**I feel like I have SO MUCH more to say in this AN, but nothing's coming to me, so I'll let you know what I surely forgot about in next chapter's AN. :P**

**Once again: THANK YOU to all of my supporters! I love you guys! You really help me get my butt into gear and write!**

**Translations:**

**I can help, so I will.**

**You're my baby. I won't put you in harm's way.**


	32. Chapter 32: Mourning

**Hey all! I'm still alive! Sorry this took me so long! Anyways, here's the grieving chapter. Hope you like! Note: I don't know specifically what Gaius' job would entail, as you'll understand toward the middle of the chapter, so I just made up specifications.**

**Also, thanks to Starry Roses for informing me that it's impossible to fire multiple arrows at once or for one arrow to go through several men, as was done in the last chapter. My answer to the former (an answer I really should have incorporated into the chapter itself) is that Merlin is mostly using his magic to put almost three times as much power and momentum behind the arrows to be more efficient. Thanks, though, Roses- you've reminded me to explain! Thanks for being such a dedicated reader and reviewer, and I appreciate you calling me out on what didn't make sense!  
**

**Anywho, on to the chapter!**

**Never Quite Lost: Mourning**

Merlin cried at Gaius' funeral. He didn't talk to anyone, didn't move except to fall to his knees when his vision began swimming with unending tears. He'd thought he would be prepared for when Gaius eventually passed on, but he couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried. He felt like a large portion of his life was now gone, engulfed in flames and burned to irreparable ashes. He clenched his eyes shut when Sir Ender came forward with the torch and lit the pyre, then cried even harder when the crackling sound of burning reached his ears. Gaius shouldn't have died like that! Not in the dungeons, alone except for Julia, without the chance to say any last words to his nephew or sister, or his king and queen, for that matter. Why did he have to die with a pleasant expression on his face? There was nothing pleasant about the situation. Merlin swiped his sleeve over his cheeks, doing nothing to staunch the constant stream of tears. His heart felt broken into little tiny pieces.

"Merlin, son, let's go inside." Hunith said quietly as she knelt beside him. The ceremony had ended almost an hour ago, and Merlin was still hunched over before the pyre, shivering from the cold of the oncoming evening. He shook his head resolutely and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, crying so hard that a headache was now pounding behind his eyes and his face felt sore. He'd lost an uncle, but it felt like even more than that. It felt like he'd lost a sort of father, too. Because once upon a time, in the very back of Merlin's head, Gaius was the one in charge of Merlin's care. It hurt even more that he could hardly remember something that seemed so vitally important. He owed it to Gaius to remember all the things he'd done, all the things he'd said, all the lives he'd touched. And he was already failing that task.

"Mamai, he's gone." Merlin whispered brokenly. She sighed and put her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

"I know, Merlin. I know." Merlin bowed his head, resting it on her chest, and his hand grabbed onto her skirt of its own accord. She kissed his forehead, sniffling. "Gaius was such a special, amazing person. It doesn't seem fair for death to steal him away from us. But…" She paused, wiping the tears from her own cheeks. "But it was his time, son. Gaius was old, and sick, and it was only a matter of time before something gave out. It hurts, I know it does, but sometimes the best thing to do is celebrate him for the life he lived, not suffer over the life he's left behind." Merlin whimpered and buried his face in her shoulder.

"I don't want to forget, Mamai." He said, though it came out cracked and damaged. Grief's iron fist clenched around his battered heart, seeming to suffocate him.

"Oh, baby boy, you won't forget. Memories never leave us- they're always inside of us. Sometimes they're just hidden under other memories." Hunith soothed. "If you find yourself forgetting, you needn't do anything more than look. They're always there." Merlin wiped his face on his neckerchief and looked up at her with throbbing eyes.

"Even memories that shouldn't exist?" He asked quietly. Hunith froze and stared at him, the setting sun's light illuminating half of her face. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, no noise coming out. And Merlin knew that he was only distressing her. "Never mind." He amended, resting his head against her chest again and watching the smoldering pyre with glazed eyes. They sat there in silence for an eternity.

~oOo~

Merlin didn't sleep. He was too cold and too warm, his muscles were too sore, it was too quiet in his room but the people talking outside were too loud, he really wanted solitude but he also ached for a hug from his father. Arthur still hadn't come home. Merlin knew it was ridiculous and dramatic and childish, but he felt utterly abandoned. Tears began escaping his eyes as he lie there, curled on his side, staring at his sleeping mother sitting in her rocking chair across the room. His eyes already felt swollen and sore from all the crying he'd done, but he couldn't find the control to stop the fresh bout of crying he could feel coming. He could get up and cross the small distance between himself and his mother, climb into her lap and cuddle up in her arms, watching the fireplace and listening to her heartbeat until sleep finally claimed him. But he didn't have the energy or the resolve to act. He just wanted to lie there, wallowing in depression and self-pity, until someone came to _him_. Which was highly unlikely, as everyone, including Julia, was too busy trying to regain order amongst the rattled citizens to stop in and hug him. How pathetic- the hero of Camelot was now crying like a baby, wanting a hug from his daddy like the child he was. He'd felt so _good_ just yesterday, after he'd beaten the Saxons and their attempt at invasion, and now anything resembling happiness had drained out of him, leaving him a spineless puddle on the sidelines. Letting out a tiny sob, he curled more tightly into himself and pulled the soft blanket further up on his shoulders.

He felt a sudden small pang coming from his other half, making him whimper. Arthur was feeling fear. It should have been comforting to feel his father again, closer, meaning he was probably on his way home, but Merlin could barely handle his own emotions, let alone feel his father's. So, regretfully, Merlin clamped down on their link, something he'd somehow always known how to do but had never done before. The rush of fear was cut off, leaving a peaceful, lonely quiet in Merlin's mind. That is, until the not-memories returned with a vengeance. A chalice. Drinking. Choking. Dying. Spell. Light. Arthur, it's a trap. Waking. Merlin didn't know what to make of these illusions- they had never happened to him, yet they were clear and strangely familiar enough that he knew they _had_ happened. Not-memories like this had been assaulting him ever since that morning, when he first woke up from his fitful, exhaustion-induced sleep to learn that Gaius' funeral would be held later that night. A unicorn. A lake. Screaming ghosts he somewhat remembered as being one of his childhood fears- 'the D'rochas will get me!'. Will. Merlin mourned that memory; it had been almost a year since he'd last seen his Will, and he knew, deep down, that he'd never see him again. His Will had used hand motions to sign out a tearful farewell before disappearing in a shower of heavenly light. Merlin had thought it was a dream, maybe a strange premonition, but nothing had become of it besides the absence of his spectral friend.

But the Will in the vision had looked different- he wasn't transparent. He was bleeding. He was dying.

A sharp pain always accompanied these images, but with each new vision it was gradually becoming more bearable. Now it was barely a throb at the base of his skull.

But no matter where his thoughts strayed, they always eventually wandered straight back to Gaius, and the tears would grow thicker and his breathing would get faster. He missed Gaius so much that it was a physical ache in his chest. He remembered the teary song his mother had sung to him just a few short hours ago as she tried to get him to sleep.

"It's been a long day, without you, my friend,

And I'll tell you all about it when-" Her voice broke. "When I see you again.

We've come a long way, from where we began,

Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again.

Why'd you have to leave so soon, friend?

Why did you have to go?" Tears were freely streaming down her face, but she powered through, most likely only for Merlin's sake. Merlin had been numb at the time, unable to process the flood of emotions her mournful song brought forth. "Why'd you have to leave me when I needed you the most?

I'm not sure I know how to tell you,

Without feeling much worse.

I know you're in a better place, but it's always going to hurt.

Carry on,

Give me all the strength I need,

To carry on, oh, oh," And it was at that point that Merlin retreated into himself, tuning out the rest of the song. Hadn't she told him to not be sad? He didn't understand why she would sing a song that would make her cry like that. He didn't like seeing her cry.

Now, as Merlin reflected on the words, he felt a deep sadness. She'd sung the song as a way to grieve. To express her own emotions about the loss of her brother. Maybe… maybe it was good to get all the crying out before you got better. It never had felt good to Merlin when he tried to keep the tears and sobs bottled up inside.

While he was tuning out the rest of the song, one lyric in particular had broken through his walls and made him freeze. "How do I breathe without you? Everything is so cold. I'll be waiting right here for you, 'till the day you're home." 'Till the day Gaius came… home. That made Merlin burst into a whole new explosion of sobs. Gaius _was_ home. He was a solid, reliable figure that Merlin could always count on to help him through confusion, fear, or physical ailment. And now Gaius would never come home again. He'd never talk to Merlin again.

Merlin begged for sleep to come and save him from the fierce hold that sorrow had on his heart. He couldn't take much more of this suffering. He wished his mother would wake up and somehow force him to fall asleep. But she was exhausted, and he wouldn't force her to wake up.

He didn't know how long he stayed awake after that. It could have been months; he wouldn't have been surprised. His body was conflicted with both the urge to get up and _do _something and the total lack of motivation to move a single muscle. What was the point? Gaius was gone, and nothing Merlin did would bring him back. Not even his magic could bring the dead to life like that- and, as Gaius himself had taught him, if he tried, he was more than likely to lose a limb or one of his senses as atonement for attempting such dark, forbidden sorcery. Death wasn't something magic could simply cancel out.

_Then how am _I_ here? _ Merlin jumped. What…_What_? Where had that rogue thought come from? How did it make sense? Why did he feel, deep in his core, that it had a point? There was agonizing stab of pain to his brain, making him wince and clutch his head until it died down, leaving him miserable and confused. He'd never cheated death, especially not so he himself could live. That's not how the balance of the world worked. He'd always known that. And he understood its consequence well enough that, even in his irrational state of grief, he still knew not to attempt bringing Gaius back, as tempting as it might have been. So what had that stray thought been based upon?

He didn't like this thought process. To distract himself, Merlin began forcefully redirecting his mind. He wondered about how Lady Mary and her family were doing. She had been at the funeral, mostly out of courtesy for the well-known Court Physician that had, despite his job technically only being treating the members of the Court, taken it upon himself to aid even the poorest of Camelot's citizens. She'd briefly tried to cheer Merlin up by introducing him to her son, but when the little boy's attempts to get Merlin to play with him were met with absolutely no response, the woman had sighed sadly, given Merlin a genuine hug, and taken her family home. He wondered if he'd be seeing her again. She was nice, independent, and intelligent- she was rather unique amongst her fellow noblewomen, as she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty and fight to defend her home. He liked her. He should have responded to her earlier; now he'd probably burned that bridge. He'd been rude.

Then he wondered if Julia had told Sir Ender that she was carrying his daughter yet. He wondered how life would be now that there would be a new addition. He wondered what his niece would be like. He wondered if she'd even make it to birth. Shaking his head as though that would dislodge such horrible thoughts, Merlin rubbed his eyes with his fists, his hands coming away soaked with salty tears. Of course the baby would be okay. Merlin couldn't resurrect the dead, but he _could _heal the injured and the sick. He would ensure that his sister and her daughter were perfectly healthy.

He thought of Freya. She'd visited a few times when her nomadic family was nearby, but it had been over ten months since her last visit, and he missed her. Every time they saw each other they promised that, as soon as they were old enough, they'd be married. They'd never kissed, never said 'I love you' aloud, but the love they shared seemed to span thousands of years and neither could see themselves spending their lives with anyone else. He wished she would visit soon- he wanted to embrace her. Whenever Freya was around, things were okay. And right now, things were _not _okay.

He wanted his mama, too. Gwen was so soft-spoken and kind when he was feeling down; she was the most empathetic person he knew, and she cared about everyone. He wanted her to hold him close and whisper all the positives in his ear, to make the depression, the anger, the confusion, the self-pity, the self-hatred, the fear, and the hurt all go away. She loved him, just like Mamai and his father, and she could be both compassionate and strong at the same time. Comforter and protector.

He wanted Kilgarrah and Aithusa to come back. Kilgarrah was his link to his actual father, the one who sired him, the one who had carved him a little dragon to show him that he still cared, even after death. Kilgarrah was his link to the dead; the one who made it believable that those who passed on were still watching over him. And Aithusa had saved his life. She was kind only to him, and she was small enough that he could hug her. She was like the dog he'd never been allowed to have, except twice as intelligent and caring. She couldn't speak like Kilgarrah, so she made use of their mental connection, which somehow felt more special.

But none of them were there. His mother was too emotionally overwhelmed to help him as he sunk further into the depths of despair. It seemed as though nothing he thought of could truly cheer him up- everything always had a sad edge to it that his current mental state seemed to amplify. He was just glad he hadn't been there to see Gaius' soul leaving his body… But he also hadn't been there to say… to say goodbye.

"Merlin!" Merlin screeched and jumped as the door flew open and a panting, wide-eyed Arthur entered. When his eyes fell on Merlin, his shoulders sagged in relief and he rushed over, pulling the boy into his arms tightly, one hand resting on the back of his little head. "Oh, Merlin, thank God you're alright!" He cried, dozens of emotions oozing from his voice. Merlin felt fresh tears cumulate in his eyes as his wish finally came true. He wrapped his arms around his father and cried into his shoulder.

"Gaius is dead! Gaius is dead!" He all-but screamed into the man's chainmail, which smelled of sweat and dirt. But he didn't care. "Gaius is dead!"

Arthur stiffened before tightening his hold. "Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry we were gone! I heard about the Saxons from one of the messengers, and we came as fast as we could… Julia said you fought off the invasion, but I couldn't feel you in my head. We were terrified!" He calmed his breathing and sat down on the bed with Merlin still cradled to his chest. "I wish we'd been here for Gaius." He lamented after a few moments. "He… He deserved better."

"You were gone! I-I-I-" Merlin couldn't think of any words because he was using up all of his words too quickly for his brain to keep up, and he was hyperventilating and that was putting uncomfortable pressure on his lungs, but when he thought of that he thought of tonic, and then Gaius, and how Gaius would never make his tonic ever again, so he just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, opening their mental link again and letting Arthur share in what he felt.

Arthur sucked in a breath before beginning to rock Merlin side to side soothingly. "Oh, my son, my son… It's all going to be okay. I'm here." Merlin could hear when his mother stood and left the room, presumably to give them some privacy and also to probably get some sleep in her own bed. "It's all over. Hey, did I tell you that I heard about what you did yesterday? You're a hero, Merlin. You were very brave, and you saved Camelot. Thank you." Merlin's sobs died down just a little as he listened to the way his father's voice rumbled in his chest. He'd missed him so much that hearing his voice now was bringing all new tears to his already-damp eyes.

"G-Gaius…" He whimpered, voice cracking. His shoulders shook. "I-I… He…" He took a deep breath to try to regain some semblance of control. "He t-took care o-of me… when-when I l-left E-Ealdor." Arthur went silent, his movements faltering ever-so-slightly, but if this statement meant much to him, he didn't show it.

"Yeah." Arthur said simply, and that was that. Merlin didn't have anything more to add, and his head was spinning and his father's arms were so comfortable… "Merlin, go to sleep, son. I'm here." As he said this, Arthur slowly leaned over sideways until he was lying down with Merlin encircled in his arms, curled up against him. Merlin nodded, all too happy to comply.

"As am I." A female voice added, the mattress behind Merlin dipping with new weight. Another arm went around him, and Merlin quickly rolled over to face Gwen, who was offering a reassuring smile, "Hello, Merlin. I'm so proud of what you did. And I'm so sorry about Gaius." She said quietly, kissing his cheek and massaging his head lovingly. "We both love you so much, Merlin." Merlin could tell that Gaius' death was affecting them both just as much as it was him, but they were putting their own feelings and needs aside to put him first. And he loved them so much, and he started crying again, making them both move closer to him until he was sandwiched between them. He put one hand in Gwen's and the other in Arthur's, and he finally felt grounded enough to drift off to sleep. Just as he was on the brink of unconsciousness, he heard one last whisper from his father, not intended for his ears.

"Gwen, he remembers."

**Hope you all enjoyed! The end is nigh!**

**Song quoted in this chapter is _See You Again _By Charlie Puth, NOT the one with Wiz Khalifa. This version can be found on Youtube if you look up the no-rap version. **

**How did you like the chapter? Please be sure to tell me! Any requests for family bonding snippets in the last few chapters? I'll try to incorporate them all!**

**Have a good evening, Lovelies!**

**-Violet**


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